The Wayne Family: Wounds
by Violet Rose of Darkness
Summary: People would say that Bruce Wayne had a habit of taking in strays and maybe there were right. He finds his small family growing as the years go on and he does his best by them. Even if they all had wounds that he had no idea how to heal. Even if his own wounds still haunted him wherever he went. Sequel to The Wayne Family: Origins. I recommend reading that first. Reverse!Batfamily
1. Chapter 1

**As promised, the beginning of my series! I decided to fill in the gaps and missing scenes of Origins, so here you go! I don't know where this story is heading, but I hope you'll stick with me. Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

_The day that Leta Martha Wayne was brought home, Wayne Manor seemed to be brighter than ever._

_Princess Diana of Themyscira rocked her newborn daughter, cradling her against her chest. "She is so tiny," she breathed. She was sure she had never seen anything so small in her life. Her infant daughter was an anomaly to her. There were no babies where she was from; in fact, she had been the last child to ever walk Paradise Island. She had seen babies during her time in Man's World, but she had never held one._

_She had never carried or birthed one._

_Bruce Wayne cocked his head to the side. "Infants typically are," he remarked nonchalantly._

_Though, even he had a hard time keeping his eyes off his daughter. He had never dreamed of having his own child, not since he had been that bright-eyed, eight-year-old boy. Yet, here she was. She had her tiny face buried into her mother's chest, impossibly small fingers resting against the woman's shirt. Her hair was scarce but dark and she seemed to have Diana's impossibly blue eyes and full lips and his slanted nose._

_She was perfect in every sense of the word._

_Never in a million years had Bruce thought that Diana, known as Wonder Woman to the world, would ever choose him. Why would she when she could have had sweet, kind Clark Kent, bright, funny Barry Allen, or loyal, trustworthy Steve Trevor?_

_But no, she had picked him. Dark, brooding Batman. Show-off, playboy Bruce Wayne. It boggled his mind at times; how could a person as pure and good as Diana Prince want him? And how could he have allowed himself to be drawn into her light? How could they, as opposite as they were, ever work?_

_Alas, it had happened. And something beautiful and wonderful had come from it._

_Diana rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean," she retorted. Her admiring gaze did not move from their daughter, however. "She is absolutely gorgeous, isn't she?"_

_Bruce couldn't argue with that. "She's beautiful," he agreed. He traced his finger over the delicate curve of her cheek. "I'm going to have to keep an eye on her." If she turned out to be half as breathtaking as Diana, he was in trouble. How did one go about fending off suitors vying for the affections of an Amazon princess?_

_The exiled warrior glanced up at him. "We made this," she proclaimed proudly, holding up the small child. Pride shined in her eyes as she presented their daughter. "Can you believe we made this?" She vaguely wondered if this was how her mother had felt when she had molded her from clay._

_He gave her a small smile. "It's settling," he admitted. His heart swelled with affection when the baby gave a tiny, quiet yawn. The man held his finger to her, allowing her small hand to grasp it. She seemed to be reaching out to him, trusting him with her heart and soul._

_It was then that he made a promise to protect his baby girl with everything he had._

OoOoOo

It was this memory, among a few others, that kept Bruce going.

It had been six years since Leta was born. It had been two years since he had last seen her. Every day, he was losing hope that he would find his little girl. He knew the statistics of these things; she was more than likely dead. But something inside Bruce refused to give up. It was as if the eight-year-old boy inside him was begging him not to lose another part of his family.

He couldn't bring himself to let that boy down.

Tired eyes stared blankly at the screen in front of him, his fingers typing furiously on the keyboard. He had been doing his best to locate Themyscira, to no avail. The Amazons were cut off from just about everything. Diana had told him that it was hidden from the rest of the world, but he'd underestimated just _how_ hidden.

Diana. The name made him cease typing as his mind lingered on the woman who had captured his heart. He had loved her and still did to this very day. It made his heart ache to think about how she was gone from this world.

Bruce closed his eyes, the memory of that day forcing itself into his head.

OoOoOo

_Diana rolled her eyes. "I wish you would stop worrying."_

_Bruce scowled as the woman in front of him disregarded his concerns. "Princess, I have a bad feeling," he stressed. She had received an invitation from her mother to drop by for a visit with Leta. This _could _have been a woman attempting to make amends with her daughter and wanting to meet her granddaughter. Or something more sinister was going on. He still remembered how devastated Diana had been when her own mother had exiled her._

_He wasn't going to be quick to trust the woman who had hurt her._

_She, however, smiled indulgently at him. "You always have a bad feeling, my love," she responded, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Everything will be fine. Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"_

_Of course he hadn't. Diana had been endowed with gifts from her Gods when she was an infant. She was easily the strongest woman he had ever met. Logically, he had nothing to worry about. But Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. "You aren't indestructible, Princess," he reminded her._

_Diana glared at him. "No, but I am the Champion of the Gods," she retorted sharply. "Do not forget that I bested every one of my sisters to be here. There is nothing my mother can do to harm either of us. Leta and I will be fine."_

_As if on cue, little footsteps pattered over to them. "Mommy, Daddy!" exclaimed four-year-old Leta Wayne. Her long dark hair was in pigtails and she wore a pair of light green overalls. "Look what I made!" She held up a piece of paper for them to see._

_Diana's glare instantly softened upon seeing their daughter. "Oh, let me see!" she gushed, taking the paper. "Oh, my sun and stars, it's glorious! But who are these people in the picture?"_

_Leta grinned at her. "You and Daddy and Alfred and Grandma Hi- Hippie-" She seemed to struggle with the name._

_"Hippolyta," corrected Bruce gently, feeling his own expression morph. He had never known that a child could easily bring one so much happiness. His daughter truly was his world. "Your grandmother's name is Hippolyta."_

_The child turned her big eyes and wide smile to him. "Thank you, Daddy!" she chirped, raising her arms up toward him. He obliged, scooping her up into his arms. She took his face into her hands, patting his cheek. "Are we going yet?"_

_Diana sighed. "Leta, we have talked about this," she reminded the four-year-old, frowning. "Your daddy, unfortunately, can not come with us."_

_Men were still forbidden on the island. Bruce would have felt better if he had been able to go with him, but they both knew he couldn't. If Diana brought him along, she would risk more tension between her and her mother. This did nothing to quell his apprehension._

_Leta frowned back at her mother. "Why not?" she demanded, crossing her little arms. She gave a tiny glare, one that was cute rather than threatening._

_Bruce kissed her chubby cheek. "Because your grandma doesn't like me," he whispered into her ear playfully. She giggled as he blew a raspberry onto her cheek._

_Diana, of course, heard. "Bruce Wayne!" she scolded, though a smile was tugging at her lips. "Don't tell her that!" She held her hands out to her daughter who readily climbed into them. "Come, my sun and stars. We must be going soon. Have you said goodbye to Alfred?"_

_The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh!" she answered. "I showed him my picture and he said we could hang it up!"_

_Her mother set the picture on the counter. "Well, maybe your daddy can do it while we're gone," she suggested, giving Bruce a pointed look._

_"Of course," agreed Bruce. The picture wasn't anything special- stick figures under a purple sky and yellow grass- but it would get a special place on the refrigerator. Anything that Leta created would be shown off as though it were the Mona Lisa._

_Diana kissed him again, this time on his mouth. "We will be back before you know it," she promised. Her smile was so genuine and reassuring that he immediately believed it. "Until then, try not to worry so much, okay?"_

_"Fine," conceded Bruce reluctantly. He knew that he wouldn't be able to change her mind, she was as stubborn as a mule. "Just be careful, alright?"_

_She chortled. "Deal," she agreed. She held their daughter out toward him. "Leta, say goodbye to your father."_

_Leta leaned forward to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Daddy!" she said. "I'm gonna miss you!"  
_

_Bruce smiled at her, feeling his heart warm. "I'll miss you too, honey," he replied. He ran his fingers through his daughter's dark locks, savoring the feeling. He wasn't sure how he would survive without them here._

_Diana set Leta on the ground. "Go get in your car seat, my darling," she gently ordered. Leta did as she was told and Diana turned to him. "Cheer up, my love." She raised his head lovingly. "And when we get back..."_

_He grinned despite himself. "The wedding," he finished. The rest of the League had wondered why it was taking them so long to get married, but neither of them had been in a rush. They had decided to enjoy their life together and with their daughter. Bruce had only proposed a little before Leta's fourth birthday. "Can't wait, Princess."_

_He waved as they left, but Bruce could not ignore the terrible feeling gripping his stomach._

OoOoOo

He shouldn't have ignored that feeling.

Looking back, Bruce kept pondering what he could have done differently. He could have convinced Diana to stay at home. He could have insisted on accompanying them. He could have faked a problem with the Javelin. He could have even had Shayera go with them as extra protection. Anything would have been better than the alternative.

The alternative being that the Javelin's signal went dead nearly a day after their departure.

It was then that Bruce had known that something went horribly wrong. He had tried everything after that; reaching Diana's comlink, tracking down the tracer in Leta, and even flying around the Mediterranean. But there was nothing.

"Superman to Batman."

Bruce scowled slightly at Clark's cheerful voice. The boy scout had a perfect life; a son, a wife, and both of his parents safely tucked away on their farm. He couldn't help but feel jealous when all three of those things had been torn away from him. He was happy for his friend, of course; no one should have to suffer what he had gone through and if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Clark. But he missed Diana and Leta and his parents more than anyone would ever comprehend.

"What is it?" he growled in irritation.

But Clark's next words made him freeze. "J'onn has a lead."

OoOoOo

Batman was at the Watchtower as soon as physically possible. He stalked through the corridors, minor heroes and civilian staff staying clear of him. His cape billowed behind him and a dark scowl was painted onto his face. He practically threw open the doors to the meeting room, the white eyes of his cowl narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Talk," he snapped at his fellow Founders. Shayera glared at him with annoyance, John and J'onn kept their faces blank, Barry jumped, and Clark flinched slightly. Bruce's lip curled in frustration. "Well?"

J'onn stood up. "As you know, I was able to make telepathic contact with Leta a few months ago," he reminded the room.

Bruce nodded; the Martian's success had reawakened his drive and determination to find his daughter. It was how he knew that she was alive and on Themyscira, although he had no idea what condition she was in. It was also how he knew that Diana was... He winced at the reminder. J'onn had been kind enough to keep sending her memories of him and Diana. "And?" he urged.

"Lately, her thoughts have been intense," continued J'onn. Bruce felt his heart leap in his throat. "It seems that her mentality has been growing strong. So strong, in fact, that I was able to pinpoint her location this morning."

It took him a few moments to process these words. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about seeing his little girl again. His mind raced a smile a minute. What would she look like? She would definitely be taller... He would have Alfred buy some new clothes. Would she still look like Diana? Or would his own features begin to show themselves? Would she still-?

"Bruce!" shouted Clark suddenly.

Bruce's attention snapped to the Man of Steel. "What?"

"You spaced out," Barry informed him, a bit timidly. He would never admit it, but he liked Barry well enough. He might have been a bit foolhardy at times, but he knew when to get serious. But the entire Justice League knew not to get on his bad side these days. "Are you okay?"

Bruce regarded them for a moment before turning around and walking toward the door.

"Wait a minute!" interrupted Shayera, soaring in front of him. Her green eyes leveled him with a glare. "Where do you think you're going?"

He gave his own right back. "To get my daughter," he glowered. How could she even ask such a stupid question? "Do you have a problem?" He didn't have time for this. Every minute wasted risked his daughter's well being.

John joined his wife, standing next to her. "In case you've forgotten, Bruce, we care about Leta too," he admonished. "Do you honestly think that we would let you go alone?"

Bruce blinked, not expecting that. Had he underestimated how much his fellow Founders had loved his daughter? Had she spent more time with them then he had realized? He had never thought about how her disappearance had affected them too. He looked around to view their faces. "You _all_ feel this way?" he demanded.

Clark looked hurt. "You thought that we didn't?"

Barry gave him a sad smile. "Danica keeps asking about her," he revealed. "Iris and I miss having her over."

J'onn's face remained impassive. "She was our niece, my friend," he said simply. There was a touch of sadness in his voice. "Of course we all miss her and of course we want to help you."

Bruce almost hated how touched he was by their sentiments. He closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to clear his thoughts. When he found his daughter, he probably could use the support. Besides, he didn't have the patience to argue with them. "Fine," he agreed. "You all can come. But we leave _now_." They all nodded and followed him out of the door.

_'I'm coming, Leta,' _Bruce swore.

OoOoOo

**You know, I'm almost proud of how I wrote Bruce here. It's not perfect, I'll admit, but it's a lot better than how I used to write him. Disgusting. I actually had no idea how to start this story until this came to me just now. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's chapter two. This chapter actually correlates exactly with the first chapter of Origins. I was going to leave it out, but I figured you all should see Bruce's side of things. Besides, some of you haven't read Origins, so I figured it would be better to include it. Also, I did not expect four whole reviews! Thank you so much! Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Bruce spoke to no one as the Javelin 7 soared through the air.

He pressed his lips together, his hands gripping the steering wheel. The other Founders said nothing as he pushed the jet as fast as it could go. Anticipation clawed at him and he did his best to ward it off. It wouldn't do to be distracted when he retrieved his daughter. She deserved his full attention when they met again when he rescued her from...

The thing was, he had no idea what he was rescuing her from. Better yet, he didn't know if she even needed to be rescued. What if something terrible had happened and she was all alone? What if J'onn's signal was wrong? Anything could have happened those two years ago. What awaited the six of them on Themyscira's shores?

A nagging voice in his head was telling him that Hippolyta had done something. He may have only met her once, but he recalled her vindictive, demanding nature. Diana had told him, in detail, about her less than ideal childhood with that woman. The thought of her daughter being around someone like that... Bruce's hands tightened on the wheel. If he ever found out that Hippolyta had hurt his daughter, he-

_'Easy, my friend,' _eased J'onn in his head. _'You mustn't lose your head. We may have to deal with the entirety of the Amazons. If that is the case, you must think straight.'_

Bruce sighed; of course, J'onn was right. If he wanted Leta home safe, he couldn't allow his emotions to overrule him. As much as the thought of his daughter in pain made him blind with rage, he had to calm down. Besides, there was no guarantee that the Amazons were even behind this.

Worst case scenario: this was the doing of Hades. The gate to Tartarus was, after all, on Themyscira. That could be where J'onn was picking up his signal. He internally shuddered; he disliked the Ruler of the Underworld even more than Hippolyta. Diana had told him that the God may be her father, making him Leta's grandfather. He scowled something fierce; if the God of the Dead was trying to stake a claim to her, he would have to get through _him_ first. Godhood be damned, he was getting his daughter back.

Beeping from the Javelin 7 brought him out of his thoughts. "Preparing to land," he announced to the group. He glared at the area below him, seeing nothing but ocean. However, he knew that didn't mean anything. There was a barrier around Themyscira that hid it from the naked eye.

"Um, Bats?" questioned Barry, anxiety lacing his voice.

"The island is protected," John reminded him before Bruce could make a stabbing retort. "Just because we can't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there. You can relax, Barry."

Shayera's mace crackled with energy. "Just let me find out that those Amazons are behind all this," she threatened. "I've been waiting to sucker punch Hippie for a while now." Bruce felt a twinge of satisfaction knowing that his friends shared his sentiments about Hippolyta. No one had been particularly fond of her since she had banished Diana.

"Everyone, get ready for a fight," ordered Clark. He looked worried, but it was overshadowed by determination. "If the Amazons are responsible, I doubt they'll take our intrusion too kindly."

Bruce scowled at the word 'intrusion,' but didn't comment on it as he began the jet's descent. Turbulence suddenly began to jostle the plane and he knew that they'd hit the barrier. Gritting his teeth, Bruce pushed through. The determination and anger that had been festering for two years began to make itself known as he forced the jet through.

It was a struggle, but he managed to push the plane through. At his success, his grip loosened just a tad. A quick glance behind him told him that his passengers were a bit shaken by the unexpected turbulence. He wanted to roll his eyes; turbulence should have been the least of their worries.

Bruce suddenly narrowed his eyes at the cluster of tall, muscular warrior women waiting on the shore below. They were armed, angry, and ready to tear the jet apart as soon as it landed. There was no doubt about it, the Amazons would do everything in their power to deter them.

His lip curled; let them try.

OoOoOo

The impending battle was instant and furious.

Bruce snarled with anger and contempt at the obstacles in his path. He was none to gentle in warding off their attacks. How _dare_ they try to keep him from his daughter. He was sure that he had never known fury this intense in his entire life. Hippolyta was a fool if she thought that she would be able to hide his daughter from him forever.

_'We will distract them,' _J'onn's voice announced in his head. _'Batman, she is somewhere in the palace.'_

_'Bring her home, Bruce,' _came Barry's soft add-on. Again, he was (begrudgingly) touched by how much his friends cared for his only child. He made a mental note to allow Leta to spend more time with them when he brought her home. Playdates with Rex and Danica would have to become regular things.

Bruce gave them a curt nod before quickly blending into the shadows. Themyscira's white temples and green wildlife were a stark contrast to the looming skyscrapers and dark alleyways of Gotham, but there were shadows everywhere. He had learned how to look for them long ago.

His heart pounded against his rib cage as he darted toward the palace. Fortunately, the majority of the Amazons were too concerned with the others. The few that passed by him were easily evaded.

He burst into the palace, throwing the large doors aside. The palace was large; so large, in fact, that he had no idea what room Leta could be in. He cursed under his breath, stalking forward. If he was Hippolyta, what room would he hide a child in? Presumably, the most obvious; a room that one would overlook.

Bruce glanced behind a pillar to see two guards securing a large, pristine door. Of course, the throne room. He covered his nose and mouth with his cape before tossing two smoke bombs forward. The two women fell quickly, unaccustomed to the 'trickery of Man's World,' as Diana used to call it. Without her- their champion- Bruce had no idea how they would survive and invasion.

He moved quickly, bolting into the room. Immediately, his eyes focused on a small figure huddled in the corner. It was a young girl- around six- with long dark hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a slanted nose. He felt as though the oxygen had been forced out of his chest he gazed upon his daughter for the first time in two years.

His feet seemed to move on their own accord as he gravitated toward the child. She instinctively moved away from him. "S-Stay away," she ordered. Obviously, she was scared and that broke his heart more than anything.

_She didn't know who he was._

Bruce dropped to his knees, the fight leaving him all at once. "Leta," he uttered, more emotion in his voice than he cared to admit. He was afraid that this was unreal, that it was another of life's cruel jokes. He wanted to touch her, to bring her into his arms but he refrained. She was afraid of him, she didn't recognize him.

Leta glared up at him in a way that reminded him of Diana. "Who are you?" she demanded. Her voice contained a bit of the ferocity that all Amazons seemed to possess.

Without hesitation, Bruce pulled back his cowl. He was hoping- _praying_, even- that this would be enough. This had to spark her memory, right? He didn't know what he would do if it didn't.

Recognition shone his Leta's sapphire orbs as she met him the rest of the way. The guard she had presented to him seemed to fall as she morphed back into that bright-eyed four-year-old he had known for just a moment. "Daddy," she breathed, shock etched across her face. She flung herself into his arms and he clutched her close to his chest.

Bruce held her as she sobbed into his shoulder, rocking her gently. "I'm here," he swore. "I'm here." And he was never leaving her again. He didn't care if the queen was mad, he didn't care if the Amazons were hell-bent on stopping him. He had finally found his daughter and he was never letting her go.

What happened afterward was a bit of a blur. He knew that Hippolyta had come to try to tear them apart again. He recalled his friends bursting in to defend them. All of that had been thrown to the back of his head as he cradled his daughter in his arms. He carried her back to the Javeline 7 where she sat on Shayera's lap as he drove.

Other than the occasional glance backward to make sure that Leta was safe, Bruce's heart rested a little easier. A bit of the suffocating pressure had seemed to lift as he saw Leta laugh at something Barry said. Or as she leaned into Shayera combing her fingers through her hair. Or as she allowed John to show her tricks with his ring.

His little girl was finally safe and where she belonged.

OoOoOo

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Alfred as Bruce entered the cave with Leta in his arms. She clutched his suit even tighter at the new presence. Alfred nearly dropped his feather duster as the pieces fell into place. "My word... " Emotion seemed to cut off the butler's voice as he focused all of his attention on the young girl in his arms. "Master Bruce, is that-?"

Bruce smiled at the reaction. "It is," he confirmed. He set his daughter on the ground before kneeling next to her. "Leta, honey, do you know who that is?" She had recognized Clark, Shayera, J'onn, Barry, and John, after all. She should be able to recognize the man. Then again, he couldn't be too sure that everything had come back.

Leta titled her head to the side as she thought for a moment. Suddenly, her face broke out into a huge grin. "Alfred!" she cried, running to hug the British man.

Alfred wasted no time in scooping her up. "Oh, Miss Leta," he stated, his eyes shiny with tears. "It is wonderful to see you again." He wiped his eyes before a tear could fall. "I was just about to make dinner. Are chicken tenders still your favorite?"

The girl's eyebrows furrowed before she dipped her head slightly. "I... I don't know..." she admitted. Her bottom lip trembled slightly and she looked as though she may begin to cry.

Warning bells went off in Bruce's head.

The expression on Alfred's face was unreadable. "I see..." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "I shall make it my duty to reintroduce you, then." He carried her off and she smiled; he had successfully defused the situation.

Bruce was left to his thoughts as he pondered Leta's reaction. J'onn had told him that her memories of them all were being forced down. There was also no doubt that Hippolyta had put an unhealthy amount of pressure on the six-year-old. He also wasn't stupid; his daughter- once chubby and soft- was now exceedingly thin and tone.

Being raised by the Queen of the Amazons couldn't have been easy. He and Diana hadn't even started to teach her how to fight. But according to Diana, she'd known how to fight before she could talk. How had his daughter even survived? The light that had shone in her eyes upon seeing him had begun to dim, he could tell.

Just how deep did her wounds run?

OoOoOo

**A few notes: Leta's generation is the Justice League from Batman Beyond and Justice League Beyond. So that means Rex Stewart (Warhawk), Mareena (Aquagirl), Kai-Ro (Green Lantern), and Danica Williams (Flash II/III). Jon will be in this, but he'll be a bit too young to hang around them. He'll be in Damian's generation. That is all I will say on the matter. Also, as a warning, please read Origins! You'll get a better sense of the universe I have set up. And I know I've included the League, but this story will primarily be Batman!**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, this chapter really kicked my ass. But give me a break, I've been battling a stomach ache. Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

For the first week, Leta hardly left her father's side. She was there to see him after patrol every night. She accompanied him to Wayne Enterprises every day. She could often be found with him in his study, quietly coloring while he worked. Unlike most six-year-olds, she happily ate everything Alfred presented to her as long as he was with her. It seemed as though she had to constantly be near him.

And that was fine with Bruce. He was hesitant to even let her out of his sight. So when Alfred brought up the subject of school, he was reluctant to reply.

"I want to make sure she's comfortable in our world," he reasoned, backing away from his daughter's room. He had just tucked her in for the night. "She hasn't been around other children for two years."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Master Bruce, Miss Leta must receive an education," he insisted. "And before you bring up the subject of private tutoring, would you not want her to have a normal upbringing?"

Bruce had to ponder that for a moment. Of course, he wanted Leta to have a happy and safe childhood. But he knew that his daughter wasn't normal. Her time on Themyscira had changed her. He wanted her to be herself, but he didn't want to treat her like she was different.

Alfred sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you allow her friends over to visit?" he suggested. "I think that Miss Danica and Mister Reginald could be a great help. Their company could get her used to other children."

He grimaced. Leta had been close to both Danica Williams and Rex Stewart before her disappearance. But would she be able to connect with them now? Barry had said that Danica missed her and John had told him that Rex mentioned her at least once a week. But would they understand her now? Would they be able to get through to her in a way that he couldn't?

It couldn't hurt to try. "I guess that could be a good idea," Bruce agreed begrudgingly. He made a mental note to talk to Barry and John and Shayera respectively. Though, a nagging voice in his head told him that this was a bad idea.

OoOoOo

Leta, he found, was a quiet child.

Bruce frowned as he watched her in the library. She was silently making her way through '_War And Peace,_' and was about halfway through the book. He hadn't read that book until his freshman year in high school. He knew he shouldn't have been complaining about his daughter liking to read, but couldn't it have been _'Green Eggs and Ham' _or something else more appropriate for her age?

Leta suddenly caught sight of him and beamed. "Father," she greeted pleasantly, her eyes lighting up as she put down the book.

He tried not to cringe. Leta had ceased calling him 'Daddy' around a week ago. Of course, he had expected her to eventually drop the title (perhaps not quite so soon), but 'Father?' It was so _formal_. His daughter- his _baby_\- was only six years old. What six-year-old referred to their father that way?

She seemed to- somehow- catch onto his thoughts. "Father, is everything alright?" she questioned. The light in her eyes dimmed, suddenly dark with fear. Panic etched onto her face. "Have... have I done something wrong?"

Bruce immediately shook his head. "Of course not," he quickly the young girl. God, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her or make her feel bad. He just wished that she could have protected her from Hippolyta's influence. "I just came to tell you that I have the day off from work tomorrow. Is there anything that you would like to do?"

Leta tilted her head in silent contemplation. "You'll have to forgive me, Father," she apologized. Her expression was somewhat detached as she spoke. "I've not been here for a while. What is there to do in Man's World?"

He sat down next to her. "Well, we could go to the zoo," he suggested. She used to love the zoo. He remembered how she would insist for him to hold her on his shoulders so she could look at the penguins. The zookeepers had adored her and would let her feed the seals during the show. Diana had been afraid she would fall in the water, but Bruce had assured her that their daughter could handle it. That she was brave, just like her mother.

And Bruce had ended up being right, just not in the way he ever would have wanted. Leta was so different now. Gone was the chubby, bubbly, and loud four-year-old he once knew. Now she was toned, serious, and eerily quiet.

They had stolen his daughter from him. Worse, they had stolen her from herself. He missed who he had lost, but he knew he had to accept who she was. His daughter was different now and it wasn't right for him to cling to the past.

She deserved to be loved for being herself.

He was about to suggest something else when Leta gave him a brilliant yet hesitant smile. "Alright," she agreed. "That seems like fun."

Bruce was almost relieved that she had agreed. "Good," he responded because what else could he say? He glanced at the clock and noticed that it was nearly eight o'clock. "But right now it's time for bed."

As if on cue, Leta yawned. "I suppose it is," she easily accepted. She used to hate bedtime. The child looked up at him, hope flashing in her eyes. "Will you be tucking me in before patrol?"

Even before being kidnapped, Leta had known about his double-life. He and Diana had agreed not to keep it from her and had made it a habit to be around her in and out of suit. As she'd gotten older, they had told her that it was a secret she had to keep. She had taken that to heart and had never told a soul.

Which was why he had been so disheartened when she hadn't recognized him before.

Bruce nodded. "Of course," he assured her. "Go get ready and I'll be right up." She did as he said, placing her book neatly back onto the shelf. His daughter, the bright spot in his dark world, sent him one last smile before retreating from the library.

He couldn't figure out why his heart felt so heavy.

OoOoOo

When Bruce entered her room, Leta was dressed in her pink silk pajamas. "Hello, Father." Dutifully, she climbed into her carefully-made bed. Her blue eyes peered up at him expectantly. She had a thin, light scar next to the corner of her right eye, something that most other people would miss. And something she didn't have before. He had wanted to ask how she had gotten it, but she always became skittish when Themyscira was mentioned.

Bruce quickly tamped down on his rising anger. Hippolyta would be lucky if he never paid a visit to Themyscira again.

He sat at the foot of the bed. "Hi, honey," he softly replied. "Is there anything you wanted to hear tonight?"

Bruce vaguely wondered if she was too old for story time. She used to insist that he or Diana read to her every night. Of course, she was only two years older now, but his six-year-old seemed more like a very mature ten-year-old.

Leta thought for a moment, before glancing down. "Father, could you sing to me instead tonight?" she requested, her voice tender and fragile.

His chest constricted painfully. He recalled how he and Diana would sing to their daughter on the nights she was particularly restless. Diana had loved his voice ever since he had sung to free her from Circe's curse. Memories of his late fiance swarmed his head, but he quickly forced himself back to reality.

Diana wouldn't have wanted him to regress back into himself. Not when he had their daughter to look after. Leta needed him to be a father.

So, Bruce swallowed down his pain. "Of course," he agreed, quickly clearing his throat.

Somehow, she had uncovered the emotions raging in his chest. "You do not need to!" she intervened quickly. Apprehension flashed in the child's eyes as she bit her lip and studied his face. "I will be alright with a story!" The pure dread that twisted in his daughter's expression startled him.

"It's not a problem, sweetheart," Bruce readily assured her. How could she ever think that she was a problem? He ran his fingers through her hair. "Would you like to hear the one your mommy used to sing?"

Leta seemed anxious for a moment before her shoulders relaxed. "Yes please," she said softly. Bruce had to smile. He took a moment to himself, recalling the words to his fiance's old lullaby.

_My child, you are loved and you are strong,_  
_So dry your tears and hear my song_  
_You will be safe in my arms_  
_For here you will not be harmed_

His little girl smiled serenely, allowing her eyelids to droop. Bruce watched her with fascination, wondering how on Earth he could ever hold such overwhelming love for someone. Her eyes finally slipped closed completely and he wasted no time in pressing a kiss to her forehead. He quickly crept out of the room, his gaze never leaving her slumbering form.

He was going to shut the door but was promptly reminded of Leta's first night back.

OoOoOo

_Bruce smiled as he watched his daughter drift away into sleep. He didn't think he had ever felt so much relief in his life. His daughter was back. She was safe and she was here with him. All that searching in the last two years and he had never prepared for this part. The emotion that overtook him was immense, so much so that he felt as though he would drown. And yet, he would happily drown if it meant he never had to be without her again._

_He thought nothing of shutting off the light and closing the door._

_Bruce frowned as he made his way toward the cave. He detested leaving her- especially tonight- but he knew he had to. Not only did he have a city to protect, but he also had to be on the look-out for any Amazons. He had let his guard down regarding them once, he would not make the same mistake again._

_He would die before he let them get their hands on his daughter once more._

_It hadn't been more than fifteen minutes when shrill, agonizing wails echoes throughout the manor. His daughter's wails. Bruce, who hadn't even begun to change, raced up the steps. His heart hammered in his chest as he rushed to the room he had just left._

_Bruce burst into the room, immediately scanning it for any signs of danger. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. Had there been a break-in? Had the Amazons come back for her? Had one of his enemies figured out his identity?_

_His gaze finally focused on his daughter, huddled in the middle of her bed. Her wails had subsided, leaving only small whimpers. She clutched her hair and he could see that she was shaking slightly._

_His heart broke at the sight._

_Bruce was at her side in an instant, wasting no time in taking hold of her shoulders. "Leta, honey," he attempted, trying to get through to her. No response. "Leta, please tell me what's wrong." His carefully constructed facade was perfectly calm, but inside he was panicking. She'd had nightmares before, but never like this._

_This was on his level of night terrors. The thought made his heart clench._

_Leta looked up at him with tearful eyes. "I-I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I will do better, I-!" Another sob escaped her mouth, disrupting her sentence._

_His hold on her tightened. "Leta, calm down," he tried to soothe, running his fingers through her hair. "It's okay. I promise you're okay."_

_She sniffed, burying her face into his chest. Her cries subsided. "I'm sorry," she repeated, taking deep breaths._

_Bruce gently rocked her. "What for?" She had nothing to be sorry for. She hadn't done anything wrong. Did she think she was in trouble?_

_Leta stared up at him, confusion flashing through her face. "Y-You closed the door," she reminded him. Her hands shook violently. "A-And it was dark."_

_He pondered this for a moment. At four years old, Leta had never been afraid of the dark. She had turned down any attempt to get a nightlight. And she had always preferred her door to be closed. God, what had they done to her?_

_"I'm sorry," whispered Bruce. Guilt, anger, and sadness pierced his heart all at once. "I'm so sorry."_

OoOoOo

From that night on, he always left the door open and the hallway light on. It seemed to work because there had been no more night terrors. He had no idea what the Amazons had put his poor baby through, but he did know one thing. If they ever thought about coming near her again, he would be there. He would give his life to keep her away from them.

Bruce glanced at his sleeping daughter. She looked so peaceful that the corners of his mouth were tugged into a smile. Whatever trauma or issues she had, they would work through it together. He wouldn't allow her to turn out like him; cold, alone, and void of happiness.

He sighed, knowing what he had to do first. Bruce took out his cellphone and dialed the number. "Allen, it's me. How would Danica like to come over this Saturday?"

OoOoOo

**Alright, so this chapter was meant to, idk, give you insight on Bruce and Leta's relationship. And how they're both struggling to adapt. Next chapter may be from Leta's POV. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Last chapter of filler, I promise. Things will start to pick up next chapter. Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Leta nervously tugged at the hem of her dress.

The night before, her father had consulted with her about having her friends over. Rex and Danica- she remembered- had been her closest companions before her disappearance. Danica was a year older than her and was smart, friendly, and witty. Rex was stubborn and, despite being two months younger than her, had acted as her protector from an early age. She had adored them both at four years old.

Now, Leta didn't know what to think. What if she had changed too much? She knew she wasn't a normal child, not anymore. Themyscira had stolen that from her. She didn't like playing with toys or dressing up. She was unsure if she would be able to connect with her old friends. What if they didn't like her anymore?

The thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes. It had been hard enough adjusting to the manor again. It was like she was the puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. Would it always be like this? Would she always be the outsider, the foreigner in the place she had once called home?

"Leta, honey?"

She jumped, whirling around to face her father who was standing in the threshold. Concern was etched onto his face and she couldn't help but feel guilty. He had already saved her and brought her home, couldn't that be enough? Why must she burden him more? "Yes, Father?" she asked.

Her father slowly approached her, as if she were a cornered animal. She hated that he felt it necessary to walk on eggshells around her. "Your friends will be here soon," he announced. "Is everything alright?"

Leta nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Of course," she lied, giving him the biggest smile she could muster. She unsettled her father, she knew. He was used to the four-year-old he had lost. And Gods, she was trying to be the daughter he had loved. But it was proving to be more than difficult. "Why wouldn't it be?"

She watched him attempt to decipher her words in his head. She wished he wouldn't do that. She didn't want him to worry himself so much. "Just making sure," he finally settled on. "I like your dress."

Leta glanced down at the light blue sundress. She didn't particularly care for dresses- they weren't nearly as flexible as chitons- but she figured that it was the best choice. It was pretty and innocent enough; maybe she could hide behind it. "Thank you," she returned pleasantly. "I thought it was nice." She cringed, though she knew that she couldn't use big words with her friends.

It wasn't because they weren't smart because both of them were. She just wanted them to think she was normal. She didn't think she would be able to take it if they started to look at her differently.

OoOoOo

She sat next to her father, patiently waiting for the arrival of their guests. A small part of her almost hoped that they wouldn't show up. Maybe then she could shield them from herself. There had never been a time when she thought about purposefully alienating herself from her friends, yet here she was. Still, something told her it wouldn't go well. If they still cared about her as she did them, then they would no doubt be hurt by this.

Leta's lip curled; Themyscira had ruined her, but she was making it worse. She was tainting everyone around her.

She jumped when the doorbell ring, abruptly snapped out of her thoughts. Her eyes trailed after Alfred as he went to answer the door and she found she was unable to squash her rising anxiety. Her father cast her a side glance of concern, but she merely gave him a smile.

Alfred soon returned, four people trailing after him. She recognized Uncle John and Uncle Barry, but her eyes focused on the two children with them. It was as if everything was in slow motion as her eyes met Danica's chocolate pools and Rex's Kelly orbs. She was suddenly overcome with an unknown emotion as it raged powerfully in her chest. Danica's hair was straight now and Rex wore glasses, but they hadn't changed much. Of this, she was sure.

Danica, unsurprisingly, was the first to react. "Le-Le!" she squealed, zipping toward her. The girl threw her arms around her, hugging her so tightly that it seemed as if she would never let her go.

Leta tensed and she felt her father bristle next to her. She froze for a moment, unable to properly respond to the girl's gesture. She was never hugged on Themyscira. Yes, she embraced her father, but her father was strong and sturdy. This girl was thin and fragile. What if she broke her? She glanced at Alfred, noting his encouraging look.

She took a deep breath; she could do this.

Slowly and reluctantly, Leta wrapped her arms around the other girl. "Hello, Danica," she greeted, her voice stiff and formal. Hera, could she be any more awkward? "How are you?"

If Danica thought she was acting oddly, she made no comment on it. "Good!" she chirped. She turned, gesturing for Rex to come forward. "Rex, come here! It's Leta!"

Rex strolled over to her, his eyes studying her intently. "Yeah..." Understanding washed over her. While Danica's joy overrode her insight, Rex's did not. He knew there was something different about her, he just wasn't sure what. Somehow, that made her feel a bit better. "So, where were you?"

"_Rex_," snapped Uncle John. "We talked about this."

Leta gave the man a sweet smile. "It is alright, Uncle John," she assured him. In fact, she appreciated Rex's bluntness. It was comforting to know that someone wasn't treating her differently. Although, to her credit, neither was Danica. She was always that friendly. "I was on Themysicra, Rex."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"Reginald Stewart, that's enough," his father firmly ordered. Rex shut his mouth.

"Why don't the children go to Miss Leta's room to play?" suggested Alfred after a moment had passed. "I will bring up lunch in a couple of hours."

Danica, bless her, excitedly took hold of her arm. "Yeah!" she agreed. "Come on!" The three of them raced up to her room, Danica somehow knowing exactly where it was. Leta looked back at her father, who gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.

OoOoOo

"I don't have many toys," announced Leta upon their arrival. The only toys she had kept were the doll her mother had given her for her third birthday and the stuffed bear her father had won for her at the town fair. Everything else had been stored away; she couldn't bear to look at them. She shifted nervously, gauging their reactions. Her stomach rolled as they took in her words.

Rex rolled his eyes. "We're not babies," he claimed.

Danica threw a light, well-aimed punch at his arm. "Having toys doesn't make us babies!" she insisted, her bright smile suddenly morphed into a frown. "Don't be a jerk."

He glared back at her. "I'm not a jerk," he insisted.

Leta couldn't help but laugh at them. It was good to know that they still butt heads even after two years. "Well, since I don't have toys, is there anything you two would like to do?" she offered. Perhaps it was wise to let them take the lead. That way she could see what they responded well to and what they didn't. With any luck, she may have been able to keep her friends.

Danica pursed her lips. "We could go outside," she suggested. Her brown irises suddenly lit up. "You have a big backyard, it'll be so fun!"

That could work. Wayne Manor's grounds were wide and spacious, allowing any free-range games. And playing outside offered many possibilities, so they shouldn't get bored. "That sounds like a good idea," she agreed with a nod. She glanced over at their other companion. "What do you think, Rex?"

Rex shrugged. "Whatever," he muttered. Though, his tone held no bite or malice. That was a good sign.

"I will go ask my father," decided Leta, walking out of her room to find the man. She didn't have to look hard because he was only standing a few feet away on the phone. She waited patiently for him to finish talking. She didn't mind because it gave her a chance to listen to his voice. Many thought it intimidating, but she found it comforting. That was, after all, the voice that put her to sleep.

Bruce caught sight of her out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm going to have to call you back," he said into the phone, hanging up. His eyes focused on her, giving her his full attention. "Is something wrong, honey?"

She shook her head. "No, but Danica would like to know if we may go outside," she replied, hoping her father said yes.

He thought for a moment. "Alright, but stay close," he warned. "The grounds are big and I don't want you three getting lost." Her father regarded her for a moment. "And try not to use your powers. You don't want to accidentally hurt them."

A shiver ran up Leta's spine. No, she did not. Hera, she hadn't even thought about that possibility. Her gifted abilities had never been a struggle for her on Themyscira, but that was only because she was around warrior women much stronger than she. These were two _children_ she was dealing with. What if she ended up _breaking_ them?

Her father seemed to notice her sudden fear. "You'll be fine," he assured her quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Just be careful. You never had trouble controlling them before and you won't now, okay?"

She forced herself to nod. "Of course, Father," she agreed stiffly. Guilt rolled in her stomach; why couldn't she just be a normal child? Why did everything she did have to be complicated? "Thank you." She turned and retreated back to her friends before he could stop her.

OoOoOo

"We should play tag!" announced Danica as soon as they got outside. Leta took a moment to admire the yard; perfectly cut green grass, a lovely marble fountain, and expertly trimmed hedges. Everything about Wayne Manor was simply divine; almost as divine as Themyscira. She was almost afraid of marring the absolute perfection of it all.

Rex glared at her. "We can't," he insisted. "You cheat."

Danica crossed her arms. "Not on purpose!" she retorted.

"How about hide and seek?" suggested Leta, unwilling to allow them to argue. Besides, hide and seek was something she could do. They had a similar activity on Themyscira, only it wasn't a game. "Danica, your speed can't help you with that, can it? You don't have to run."

The other girl beamed at her. "Good idea!" she praised. "I'll count and you guys can hide." She turned around and began to count before anyone could object.

Rex rolled his eyes but took Leta's hand, catching her by surprise. "Come on," he urged her. He lead her behind the fountain and through the bushes. He crouched down, causing her to do the same. "Dani shouldn't be able to find us here."

She nodded. "Yes, it's very well-hidden," she added, looking around. It _did_ make a good hiding spot. A massive tree covered the area above them and the forestation did the rest. There was enough space to move around too. "You have a very good eye."

He tilted his head. "Why do you talk like that?" he asked, not unkindly.

Leta bristled with the question, though she should have expected it from Rex. He had probably been waiting to ask it all day but had to wait until his father left and Danica wasn't around. She couldn't blame him for wondering why she talked so formerly and why she had an accent that she hadn't two years ago. "When I arrived in Themyscira, my grandmother had my mind overwritten with Themysciran," she admitted, ducking her head. There was no point in lying or beating around the bush, she knew. "I had to relearn English."

Rex's eyebrows furrowed and she wondered how much of that he understood. "Why did she do that?" he asked finally. Realization flashed in his green orbs and she marveled at his intelligence. She had severely underestimated her friends. "Was she not nice?"

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. "No," she answered, her voice suddenly very hoarse. A lump formed in her throat. _Dammit_. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. "No, she was not."

His thumb brushed over her cheek, wiping the tear away. "I'll beat her up for you," he told her, his face very serious.

And Leta had to laugh at the mental image of tiny Rex kicking her regal, stern grandmother's shins. "Thank you," she replied genuinely. What else could she have expected from her protector? Rex was a good friend, probably one of the best she would ever have.

It was so relieving to know how wrong her grandmother had been. There were good men in this world.

Danica suddenly zipped up to them, starling her. "Found you!" she declared, but stop when her eyes settled on the sight in front of her. She gasped, throwing herself down to their level. "Le-Le, are you _crying_?" Without receiving an answer, she brought her in for another hug. "Rex, what did you do?"

"Nothing!"

Leta buried her face into her friend's neck. "They aren't sad tears, Danica," she assured her, only half-lying. "I'm just so happy to see you both again."

Danica gave her a sweet kiss on the top of her head. "We're happy to see you too," she whispered for the first time that day. She yanked a reluctant Rex into the hug. "Right, Rex?"

He rolled his eyes but nodded. "Yeah," he added, wrapping his arms around both of them. "We are."

They stayed like that for a while and to Leta, nothing else mattered. She was more than content to stay in the arms of her friends forever. For the first time, she could see a light at the end of her dark tunnel. If her friends could care about and accept her, then surely she was fine. She couldn't have been that tainted if her friends still loved her.

Perhaps she could convince her father as well.

OoOoOo

**So, the end of this chapter is both good and bad for various reasons that will be explained later. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, here's another update! Uh, I don't really have any announcement so please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Leta's first day of school was uneventful for the most part.

Yes, the coursework was far under her academic level. And yes, her classmates couldn't keep up an intelligent conversation with her. But she didn't mind either of those things too much because it gave her time to think. Everyone, for the most part, left her alone. Her teacher was a bit of a nuisance, but she couldn't fault the woman for doing her job. Overall, she was having a pleasant day.

The bell rang and an explosion of cheers boomed around her. "Everyone, line up," instructed Miss Rivera. The children did as she said and Leta thought it wise to follow suit. She lined up behind her peers, trailing them out of the school building.

Miss Rivera led them to the courtyard where the children immediately took off. Realization washed over the young girl; this must have been recess. She had heard about it before on TV shows and in books. Immediately, Leta strolled away from the other children, opting to sit under a large, shady tree.

She resigned herself to observing her peers as they played. She watched as a girl loudly giggled as she chased her friend throughout the playground. Doing so released an unexpected sense of longing and sadness in her heart; what she wouldn't give to be as carefree and happy as them.

Leta sighed, running her fingers through her long, dark hair. She knew that it would be wise to attempt to fit in. Her father had a secret identity to protect, after all, and she didn't want to jeopardize that. She didn't need any attention on her right now. She just wished she knew how to go about that.

Suddenly, her ears twitched, a chill moving up her spine. Leta, jumped up, her eyes darting around the area. She could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She chastised herself for not realizing it earlier, too consumed with her thoughts. But she could feel it now; someone was watching her.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to sense her onlooker's position. But, to her dismay, the moment was fleeting. There was nothing but the rustling of the leaves and the chirping of the birds. Whoever had been here was gone.

She was alone once more.

OoOoOo

There was something off about Leta when she stepped into the house.

Emotionally, Bruce wasn't quite sure what. But his daughter was a warrior, a fighter. That was something he could easily understand. Her stance was off, and her posture was rigid. Something had happened today, something that had her on edge. "Leta," he called when she passed his office. "Can you come here for a second?"

He carefully watched her as she tensed before slowly approaching him. "Yes, Father?" she asked pleasantly, her features perfectly straight.

Bruce turned around to face her fully, giving her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "How was school today?" he asked gently. He was hoping that it had gone well. His daughter, he knew, wasn't a bad child, but he also knew she was adjusting. Whatever it was, he hoped she would confide in him.

Leta's face remained impassive. "Good," she chirped. Her voice held an edge. "I learned a lot today. Did you know that crocodiles are unable to smile?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did your teacher tell you that?"

She shook her head. "No, Thomas Fritz did," she replied, still smiling. "He also said that he could lick his elbow, but I sincerely doubt that."

Bruce examined his daughter, trying to see what could be bothering her. But she gave away nothing, keeping the content, bright expression glued onto her face. He frowned, not liking how it mirrored his own at times. "Did something happen?" he questioned. His daughter always responded well to directness, not unlike how Diana used to.

Her big, blue eyes focused on him for a moment, her facade slipping. But it was soon up again and she plastered another smile onto her face. "Of course not," she denied. "It was just a _normal_ day."

'_Isn't that what you wanted?_'

Leta didn't say this out loud, but the implication hung in the air. He could, perhaps, see it from that point. He was striving to give her a normal childhood, something she wasn't ignorant of. She must have been confused as to why he was pushing for something that was out of the ordinary. If that something _had_ happened or not remained to be seen.

Bruce opted to change the subject as to not upset her. Of course, he _would_ get to the bottom of this, but he knew now wasn't the best time. "Do you have any homework?"

She shook her head. "I had a worksheet, but I completed it in the car," she told him. She gazed up at him innocently, likely not realizing how much that one sentence told him.

He forced himself not to sigh; of course she did. He knew that she should be put in advanced classes, but that was something they would have to talk about. She was just getting used to being around people- males especially- and this would put eyes on her. He wanted to be sure she could handle it. "Why don't we get some ice-cream?" he suggested. "To celebrate your first day?"

Leta beamed, though not nearly as brightly as he would have preferred. "Alright," she agreed. "I will change and meet you in the foyer." She turned and retreated to her room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Bruce would never admit how much her silence stung. There was a time where all Leta had done was talk, but he knew that those days were long gone. Still, it was proving to be hard to adjust to his daughter's changes. It was striking at times to expect to see his four-year-old bundle of energy only to be faced with his quiet, proper six-year-old.

He shook his head, making his way downstairs to the foyer.

OoOoOo

Leta changed out of her uniform and into a simple pink dress and a pair of flats. Something inside her ached at deliberately lying to her father. She didn't want to, of course, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. He didn't need any added stress because of her. She had resigned herself to being the perfect daughter and by Zeus, she was going to be successful.

Besides, it was probably nothing. She hadn't been training, so her sensed weren't nearly as heightened as they had been.

She shook her head, pushing these thoughts away. Leta was set on having a nice time with her father. She wholly appreciated that he made time to spend with her. She knew it wasn't easy being Batman and Bruce Wayne, so the fact that he did his best made her heart swell. Her time with him was nearly perfect.

The only one missing was her mother.

The unexpected thought caused a lump in her throat. Hippolyta had told her that her mother had died during labor, but Leta now knew that to be a lie. But how much of a lie? Was her mother dead? Very likely, but there was a part of her that refused to believe it. Her mother was brave and strong and fierce. She was not easy to kill.

Besides, there was also the fact of her grandmother. She doubted Hippolyta would have the heart to kill her own child. The queen had, after all, held her mother's achievements above her head for those two years. She had talked about her mother in such high regard. She had loved Diana.

Leta shook her head, ridding herself of these thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on it. Her mother was more than likely dead, end of story. No matter how much it hurt- no matter how she longed to be held in her mother's arms- she knew she had to move on. If not for herself, then for her father.

She raised her chin and left her room, descending the long staircase that led to the foyer. A hint of a smile formed on her lips as she recalled sliding down the railing when she was younger. Alfred would always scold her, but that never stopped her from doing it again. She used to have so much fun back then.

Hera, her father wasn't the only one who missed the girl she used to be.

Speaking of her father, he looked up from his phone when she arrived. "You look nice, honey," he told her, giving her a smile. She flushed with his approval. "Are you ready to go?"

Leta nodded. "Yes," she answered. She waved at the butler who was standing nearby. "Goodbye, Alfred." Hera, she adored Alfred.

Alfred waved back, smiling kindly at her. "Goodbye, Miss Leta," he replied. "I do hope the two of you will have fun."

The two of them departed from the large manor. Leta laced her fingers with her father's, giving his hand a loving squeeze. He glanced down at her, rewarding her with a warm smile. He opened the car door for her and she allowed him to lift her up and help her inside. She didn't need him to, of course, but she liked it when he did those small, mundane things. It made her feel special.

Simultaneously, it made her feel normal.

OoOoOo

What child opted for a bowl instead of a cone?

Immediately, Bruce felt guilt seize him for that thought. That wasn't at all fair to poor Leta, who just wanted to enjoy her ice-cream. Still, he couldn't help but admit that it bothered him. When she was four, Leta had always gotten a cone, the ice-cream always ending up on her face and shirt. But when he had asked her why she didn't want a cone today, she had told him that she didn't want to dirty her dress.

He swore that he would always despise Hippolyta. He swore it on everything that he stood for.

"Father?"

Bruce internally cursed, focusing on his daughter once more. "Yes, honey?" he responded, forcing the anger out of his voice.

Leta spooned her ice-cream, not bothering to consume it. Instead, she looked up at him with innocent yet knowing eyes. "I really like being here in Gotham with you," she revealed, giving him a sweet smile. It didn't quite meet her eyes, but he could practically feel the genuine emotion from it.

His heart swelled with affection for his baby. How could he even think about preferring her another way? She was perfect. "I'm glad to hear that," he answered quickly, his throat suddenly thick with emotion.

Silence settled over them and Bruce allowed himself to revel in it. It was bliss, being here with his daughter. He had never dreamed in those dreadful two years that he would ever be able to spend this time with her again. He wanted to have moments like these forever, wanted to cling to the one bright spot that Diana left when her light in his dark world went out.

Then, it happened.

Bruce felt it before he saw it. His eyes popped open just in time to see a dagger heading straight for his daughter. Horror captured his chest as it whizzed toward her and he moved to intervene.

But not before Leta's right hand shot out to catch it by the hilt. Her blue eyes narrowed, darkening into a steely gray as she examined the weapon. Her face had morphed from a sweet little girl to something else. Something he couldn't name. Something that scared him. His heart pounded violently against his rib cage as he watched his daughter.

Leta's jaw tightened and her eyebrows furrowed angrily. She glared at something to her right, but by the time he looked over it was gone.

Something fierce gripped him as rage clouded his vision. "Leta, get in the car," he seethed. Someone had just thrown a goddamn _knife_ at his daughter. It was taking everything in him to keep calm.

His daughter flinched, looking at him in surprise. Her innocent blue eyes had returned and she now seemed apprehensive. "But Father-"

"_Now, _Leta," Bruce hissed at her. Since her return, he had never talked to her like this and he knew he was scaring her. But he needed to get her back to the manor where she was safe. He couldn't risk leaving her out here.

Leta blinked rapidly before nodding her agreement. "O-Of course, Father." She quickly handed him the dagger and scurried into the backseat.

He took a few calming breaths before climbing into the driver's seat. Bruce had to think for a moment to remind himself that she was okay, that she was here with him. And he would be damned if he let anything happen to her again. He just had to get her home. Bruce peeled off, heading toward Wayne Manor.

As he drove, he tried to ignore the tear that he saw roll down her cheek in the rearview mirror.

OoOoOo

**That ending hurt me. So, someone's watching Leta, but why? And does it have anything to do with the dagger that was thrown at her? We'll see, won't we? Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I think I've mapped out a timeline for this story. I think that we're only going to get to Damian before the story's end. Yes, I know I'm annoying but the reason for this is that after Damian's arrival, Stephanie doesn't come for another eight years when Leta and Damian are 16 and 14 respectively. That's a lot of time to fill. But who knows? I may also find ways to involve the other members even if they aren't directly in the story.**

**Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

As soon as they returned from the manor, Leta rushed into her room. She threw herself onto her bed, burying her face into her pillow. The young girl willed herself not to cry, valiantly swallowing the lump in her throat. Leta sat up, hugging her knees to her chest and harshly biting her lip. Hippolyta would throw her in the Black Room if she ever saw her cry. She was an Amazon Princess; she was better than this. As she thought this, a tear rolled down her cheek.

She wiped it away. She felt her sapphire eyes narrow with resolve and determination. Now was not the time to cry. Right now, she had a problem on her hands. She had been right when she thought she saw someone watching her at school. And that dagger was no ordinary dagger.

It was a Themysciran dagger. Specifically, her own and one of her very first weapons. That meant that an Amazon was running rampant in Gotham.

Leta groaned as she felt a headache coming on. She was finally getting used to life in Man's World again; she did _not_ need this right now. Neither did her father, who had risked so much to get her away from the Amazons. She wasn't going to burden him more. She was going to have to deal with this without alerting him.

Somehow, she was going to have to fool The Batman.

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"Master Bruce, would you stop your excessive pacing?"

Bruce did as his surrogate father said, but his fists stayed clenched at his sides. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today. It was as if time had frozen with a dagger aimed at his daughter's head. The moment had been horrifying, but somehow the cutting, dangerous look in her eyes scared him more. His daughter- his sweet, innocent daughter- should never make that face. It had shocked him to his core, his panic rising in his throat.

"Someone threw a _knife_ at her, Alfred," Bruce sharply reminded him. He didn't see how he was supposed to be calm. Someone had targeted his _daughter_. He needed to find out who and why and put a stop to it.

Alfred, as always, didn't back down. "It seems as though Miss Leta was more than capable of defending herself," he pointed out. "Your words seemed to hurt more than any knife could have." There was a slight edge to the British butler's tone that filled him with guilt.

He knew he had been unfairly short with Leta. Catching that knife had been pure instinct for her, and he was glad she had done it. He could have lost her again if it wasn't for her reflexes. That look in her eyes, however, had been off-putting. It had been like a slap in the face, a reminder of what the Amazons had stolen from her. And him.

Bruce ran a hand over his face. He knew he would have to apologize and plan a surprise for her. The man had seen his daughter's desolate expression; he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. It wasn't her he was angry with, and he needed her to know that. Right now, however, Batman had to start an investigation.

He needed to catch whoever was targeting Leta Wayne.

OoOoOo

Leta carefully hovered down the steps of the cave. She knew that if she was discovered, she would be in so much trouble. Yet, she couldn't help herself. She couldn't just stand by, she needed to do some investigating of her own. That started with doing her research on Gotham. Where could an estray Amazon hideout? Was there anyone in the city that she was likely to align herself with?

Was she a foe or friend?

The irony of the thought wasn't lost on her; a dagger had been thrown at her head. However, Amazons were capricious creatures. This could simply be a test, or Hippolyta could have sent one of her soldiers after her and her father. This Amazon could be a hitwoman.

Leta's jaw clenched; in that case, she would be dealt with.

She plopped down into her father's large chair, admiring the monitor. Themyscira's technology was more magic-based (like the Purple Healing Ring), but she had to appreciate the sleekness of Man's World advances. Leta clicked onto her father's files- or rather- the ones that didn't require a password. They were a bit too simple for her liking, but they would have to do.

She started on the first file: _Poison Ivy. _Apparently, Poison Ivy- formerly Dr. Pamela Isely- was a botanist who gained control over plants from exposure to poisons and toxins. She had started her life of crime the same year that Leta's father had become Batman. She was dangerous, able to control males with her deadly pheromones. Ideally, she was the perfect candidate to be sought out by an Amazon.

Leta would have to keep an eye out for this Poison Ivy.

Next: _Oswald Cobblepot, AKA The Penguin. _He was a mobster and owner of the Iceberg Lounge. He had a tight hold on a large amount of Gotham's underground. He was intelligent and destructive and ruthless, presiding over his underlings with an iron fist. He seemed to embody everything that the Amazons had despised in a man; greedy, careless, and power-hungry. No Amazon would be caught dead near him. Still, she couldn't rule anything out.

Leta scrolled to the next file: _Killer Croc_. Born with reptilian traits, Waylon Jones was strong and untamed. At this point, he was more animals than human, tearing apart anyone who got in his way. According to her father's notes, he was losing himself over time. His animal instincts were taking over the rationality in his brain. Soon, he would be nothing but a mindless, savage beast.

Any Amazon who encountered him would probably attempt to kill him.

Leta sighed in frustration, leaning back into the chair. This was getting her _nowhere_. She had to get to the bottom of this before her father did. She just knew that he was the target, his death a suitable way to punish her.

She shook her head; she wouldn't let that happen! She had already lost her mother, she would _not_ lose her father as well. He had risked everything to save her and she was going to do the same for him. No one was going to hurt him on her watch.

Her face darkened; no one was going to threaten their family again. Not if she had anything to say about it.

"What do you think you're doing down here?"

Leta tensed, jumping out of the chair. "Hera!" she breathed, placing a hand over her beating heart. She hadn't even heard him come home. Either she was off her senses or her father was _just that skilled_. She was willing to bet it was the second option.

She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to meet the blank, white slits of her father's cowl. As a child, she had thought they were cool. Now, she knew why the scum of Gotham feared her father. Leta didn't allow herself to speak, knowing it was better to let him go first. Many things about Man's World puzzled her, but she knew her father.

At least, she hoped she did.

Batman's slits narrowed. "You're supposed to be in bed," he glowered at her. She could tell that he was trying to be somewhat calm with her, though she was unsure if it was working. "Care to explain why you aren't?"

Leta rocked on the balls of her feet. "Gotham City is dangerous," she stated obviously, searching for something to say. "I was attempting to familiarize myself with its underground." That made sense, right? The Amazons had taught her to be aware of what she was dealing with. Well, the smarter ones, anyway.

Her father's lip curled. "The Amazons weren't very articulate teachers in deception, were they?" he snapped. "Now, tell me the real reason."

Her face remained blank, though she felt properly chastised at being caught. "I recognized the dagger thrown at me earlier this evening," she revealed. There was no point in lying, she was awful at it. Especially to her father. "I came down here for information."

Batman's right fist curled at its side. "What kind of information?" he demanded. He was losing patience with her, she could tell. She inhaled deeply through her nose. She stared into the empty, white slits glaring down at her. She knew she had to tell him, there was no getting around it. Hopefully, he wouldn't put bars on her window or have her followed for the rest of her life.

"I was trying to find out which one of your rogues an Amazon would align herself with," Leta told him.

OoOoOo

**Yes, I'm aware that it's a super short chapter, but I didn't want to drag it along. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Please enjoy!**

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Leta did not appreciate this.

She resisted the urge to cross her arms and pout as she was brought onto the Watchtower. Pouting, after all, was not befitting an Amazon Princess. But it wasn't as if she could help it. Her father was dropping her off for a 'playdate,' but she wasn't stupid. She knew what it really was. He wanted her out of the house. He wanted her away from the cave.

He wanted her out of Gotham.

The Amazon in her was furious. She was not a child and did not want to be treated like it. She had been trained by the best warriors on Themyscira; she knew how to defend herself. But he wouldn't give her the chance to prove it. It made the warrior inside of her rage.

But the daughter inside her knew that he was scared. He was scared of losing her. She hadn't been the only one to suffer those two long years. She had been torn from him, hidden from him. Could she blame him for being overprotective? He loved her, she was sure, and wanted her to stay safe.

That didn't stop her from wanting to throw the temper tantrum of the century.

Batman nudged her forward. "I'll be back soon," he rasped. "Flash and Hawkgirl said that your friends would be in the babysitting center. I expect you to be on your best behavior." He left without another word.

Leta tried not to be hurt by this as she made her way to the center. She remembered going there as a child. She, Rex, and Danica would play for hours upon hours. Any other day, she would love to go. Alas, today was not one of those days.

Black Canary was the one currently on babysitting duty. To her understanding, trusted League members took turns. "Leta," she greeted with a warm smile. "Welcome. Why don't you take a seat next to Danica?"

Danica was waving excitedly at her. "Hi, Le-Le!" she greeted cheerfully.

Leta struggled to smile back. "Hello, Danica," she replied softly. She plopped down next to the girl, peering up at Canary expectantly. Vaguely, she wondered what activities the blond woman had planned. Perhaps, this could take her mind off the frustration and hurt boiling inside her.

Rex's keen eyes were on her in an instant. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded. How in Hera's name did he do that?

She glanced at Canary, who was watching them intently, then at Danica, whose face was twisted in confusion. "Later," she whispered back. Danica looked like she was about to question them, so Leta quickly laid her head on her shoulder. This seemed to work when Danica beamed and returned her attention to Canary.

Leta did the same, trying to shake the feeling of Rex's eyes on her.

OoOoOo

Bruce promptly ignored the guilt simmering under his skin.

His daughter was hurt by his actions, _he knew that_. No matter how mature she acted, he had to remember that she was only six. Still, how was he supposed to react? She had gone behind his back. She had sneaked into the cave on her own, something she knew was forbidden. Most importantly, she had held important information from him.

He'd had his suspicions that an Amazon was behind the attack, but he had been doubtful about one leaving the island. Diana had said that they never leave. But with his daughter's confirmation, he now knew that one was here.

And targeting his daughter.

His fingers curled with anger at the thought of one of them being in his city. How dare they even _think_ about coming here. After what they had taken from him, after what they had done to his daughter, the arrogance of an Amazon make her presence known astounded him. He would make the message clear to stay away from Gotham and Leta.

But first, he would have to find her.

Bruce regarded Ivy's file. Logically, if there was a villain for an Amazon to align herself with, she was probably the best bet. Someone who could control men would immediately gain an Amazon's attention. Still, he couldn't rule out anyone else. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. He knew he would have to this figure out sooner rather than later.

Leta's well-being was at stake and that wasn't something he was willing to gamble again.

OoOoOo

Currently, they were engaged in a very intense game of _Sorry_.

Leta had to smile to herself as she watched Danica and Rex bicker. They were both headstrong and determined and they always said what was on their minds. She admired that about them. Affection swelled in her heart, slightly tempering her mood. Despite her frustrations with her father, she did genuinely like to spend time with her friends.

"Rex, stop cheating!" insisted Danica, crossing her arms over her chest. Leta smiled at how she pouted, her pretty freckles morphing with her expression.

Rex frowned. "I'm not cheating," he told her earnestly, glancing at his card. "It says move eight places."

Danica narrowed her eyes. "You only move when it says move from start!" she argued, gesturing to the card. She puffed out her cheeks, pride shining in her dark eyes. "Iris taught me that."

He pursed his lips, glancing at the other girl. "Is that right?" he questioned.

Leta examined the rules. "I think so," she answered. She honestly wasn't paying much attention. Her mind was preoccupied with other things. Which Amazon would have followed her to Gotham? Her grandmother was a prime suspect, but she doubted the queen would leave the island. Philippus? Unlikely; the island's top general would never leave.

She what wholeheartedly stumped. Who could it be? Who would go to all the work of leaving the island just to retrieve her? Even when she was four, her grandmother had gone to the trouble of luring her mother rather than leaving Themyscira's shores.

Danica gave a satisfied smile. "Told you," she said triumphantly. She tensed for a moment, her fingers loosely gripping the desk. "Uh-oh." She zipped over to Canary. "Aunt Dinah, I gotta _go_."

Black Canary sighed. "Danica, we talked about this," she reminded the girl. "You can't wait until the last minute." Still, she took the girl's hand and led her away. "I will be back in a moment you two."

Rex, of course, leaped at the opportunity. "Why are you sad?" he demanded expectantly.

Leta inhaled deeply, expecting that. "Adjusting to Man's World had been difficult," she admitted. It wasn't technically a lie and she didn't think it was wise to tell him the truth. While Rex and Danica were very bright and intelligent, they were still children. "At times, I don't quite feel like I fit in."

He frowned. "You fit in with us," he stated plainly. It was as if he couldn't comprehend why she would think such a thing.

Did she though? She knew that her friends cared for her, but she knew that there were things about her that they didn't quite understand. That they may never understand. Could she ever fully let them into her world?

Still, Leta smiled at them. "I know, Reginald," she said, using his full name. She gave his hand a gentle pat. "Thank you."

She was unsure why, but she felt a bit better.

OoOoOo

The white slits of Batman's cowl narrowed as he surveyed Gotham City below him. He knew that somewhere, somehow there was an intruder. But where? How was it that an Amazon warrior could hide among the dark city? Theoretically, she should stick out like a sore thumb. Tact and stealth weren't generally traits that the warrior women held.

Then again, underestimating the Amazons was what got him in this mess.

The truth was that Amazons were tricky, unfamiliar. He thought he'd had them pegged when he first met Diana, but he had been wrong. Diana had been something of an enigma, holding a whole other side to her that he'd never seen. It had been startling how many masks she was capable of wearing.

Batman's lips formed a thin, grim line. Amazons could be deceiving when they wanted to be. He needed to treat this invader as he could any other intelligent, conniving foe.

"Someone's got his cape in a twist."

Batman grimaced slightly, recognizing the coy, teasing voice. "Catwoman," he greeted gruffly without turning around. He had begun encountering the sharp, slick thief. Of all of the villains he was afraid of an Amazon conspiring with, she was the one he was the least worried about. Selina Kyle looked out for herself and no one else. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood for her games. "Do you need something?"

Catwoman chuckled, sauntering up to him. "It's more like what I have for you, handsome," she told him. She ran a hand over his jaw. "Word on the street is that your precious city has an unwanted guest."

This caught his attention. "What kind of guest?" he almost snapped. He knew he needed to be very careful here; Selina wouldn't talk if she had nothing to gain.

Her lips curled into a grin. "Oh, a little more than six feet, strong, _female_," she described. Her sharp green eyes regarded him almost gleefully. "A meta, I heard. I also heard that she's looking for something. Or someone."

Dammit. It wasn't good for Gotham's underground to know that there was an Amazon in the city? He hoped that no one would connect the dots. "Where is she?" Batman demanded.

Catwoman coyly shrugged. "Around," she answered flippantly. "Of course, it's not like I know anything." Before he could stop her, she dived off the building, disappearing into the night.

_Dammit. _Batman felt rage burn in his chest. He knew that Selina had only told him to toy with him, but why even reveal that much? His lip curled in frustration; he already knew all of that. Nothing new had come out of Catwoman's information. He glowered, moving into the shadows.

He was putting an end to this one way or another.

OoOoOo

It was late when her father came to collect her.

Danica and Rex had been picked up by their parents hours ago. It had been a bit lonely, but she found that Black Canary was easy to talk to. She was patient, kind, and fierce, not unlike her own mother. They had discussed many things: combat, her friends, the Justice League. Though, it was through this discussion that Leta unveiled her father's real plan for sending her here. After all, Alfred could have easily kept an eye on her.

Throughout their conversation, Canary had tried to steer it toward Themyscira. Her father had enlisted the blonde vigilante's held in uncovering her past. A tactical move; one she would have missed if she wasn't an Amazon and the daughter of Batman.

She hadn't let on that she knew this, however. Leta knew that Canary considered her father a close friend and wanted to help him. She knew that her father just wanted to know her again, but...

Themyscira was difficult. Not everything had been unpleasant, of course, but the things that had been haunted her. It was almost as if her grandmother was still there, reprimanding her and influencing her every move. She wished she could just shove it all into the deepest recesses of her mind, but it would not go away.

Nevertheless, she didn't want to talk to anybody about the things that had happened there. She made sure to steer the conversation away from Themyscira.

When her father arrived, frustration and anger rolled off him in waves. Leta bit her lip, assessing the situation. It would probably be best to tread carefully; she didn't want to upset him further. "Hello, Father," she greeted solemnly, giving him a curt nod.

Batman seemed to look _through_ her, sending shivers up her spine. "Are you ready to go?" he bit out.

Leta swallowed the hurt that threatened to surface. "Yes, of course," she agreed, falling into step behind him. They traveled down the winding corridor, deafening silence between them. She desperately wanted to reach out and hold his hand- to feel the love and affection that she so desperately craved- but she was unsure how he would react. She didn't want to upset him more than he already was.

She blinked, forcing her tears to stay in place. She would not cry, not on the Watchtower. Not in front of her father. She wasn't going to burden her father with childish tantrums that were beneath her.

"Are you okay?"

The question made Leta tense. She gazed up into the terrifying white slits of her father's cowl, fear creeping along her skin. _Was_ she okay? She wanted to be. She wanted nothing more than to live happily as a carefree child with her father.

But she had a feeling that wouldn't happen any time soon.

OoOoOo

**So, Catwoman's come into play! She and Bruce will most certainly have their back-and-forth and moments, but don't expect much CatBat fans. I like Selina, but WonderBat will always be my ship. Anyway, I hope you like it and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So sorry this took so long! This whole coronavirus panic has put a wrench in my schedule. My governor shut down our state and things have been hectic! Anyway, please enjoy!**

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Her father was going to kill her.

However, Leta couldn't find it within herself to care. She raced through the night- clad in a plain, black suit and domino mask (her father had spares)- leaping from rooftop to rooftop. She couldn't help but feel a slight thrill every time. It reminded her of when she would jump off cliffs and into the ocean on Themyscira. The feeling was exhilarating once she got past the initial fear.

The crisp night air whipped against her face as she leaped. She didn't care for the cold, but that was the last thing on her mind. Right now, she was a woman on a mission. No doubt, her father would kill her when he found out, but she had to take that risk. This was something she needed to do.

Finally, she made it to one of the highest buildings in Gotham City. Her eyes narrowed behind her mask and a scowl slipped onto her face. "I'm here!" she announced, her voice echoing throughout the night. Her father wouldn't approve of her method, but he wasn't an Amazon. They didn't care for tricks or deception; to attract an Amazon one needed to be forthcoming. "I know you're listening! Confront me if that is your wish!"

The young girl waited, the silence deafening in her ears. Her jaw clenched with impatience, her gloved hands tightened into fists as her frustration grew. She would not play this game. "Coward!" she shouted. If declaring her presence wouldn't work, she was sure wounding the Amazon's pride would. "Do you fear a small child?"

She tensed, however, as a presence joined her on the rooftop. "I'm sure I taught you better than that," drawled a very familiar voice.

Leta turned slowly, coming face-to-face with an extremely tall, redheaded woman. She swallowed thickly, trying to push down her fear at seeing one of the very best Amazons. "Artemis," she breathed. She looked directly into the woman's amber eyes as she had been taught to do.

Artemis shook her head. "You should know better than to call out an Amazon," she chided, raising an eyebrow. "If I had been Philippus, there would be an arrow through your chest."

Once she had gotten her wits about her, Leta squared her shoulders. "Why are you here?" she demanded, cursing herself for not thinking to bring a weapon. She eyed Artemis' bo staff, which was attached to her back. Then again, she didn't have a sword and it wasn't as though she could use her father's weapons.

The amusement on the redhead's face only served to irritate her more. "Why do _you_ think I'm here?" she drawled, dodging the question.

Leta slipped into a stance. "I can only think of one reason," she replied tersely. "To drag me back to my grandmother." If that was the case, she _would_ win this fight. She may have been young and naive two years ago, but Leta was no fool. She was strong and smart and part of that had come from the woman in front of her. She would _not_ be separated from her father again.

Artemis seemed to regard this. "That is a likely scenario," she reasoned. "Unfortunately, that's not why I'm here. In fact, I doubt either of us would be welcome on Themyscira."

She tilted her head, taken back by this statement. "Why is that?" she questioned. She could understand why her grandmother would cast her out- the woman had banished her _own daughter_\- but why Artemis? Artemis was strong, brave, and loyal to a fault. She wasn't the treacherous disappointment that Leta was.

"I don't think that's the question you should be asking."

The hair on the back of Leta's neck shot up as she jumped in surprise. A string of Themysciran curses spilled from her mouth before she could stop them, causing her cheeks to burn when both Artemis' eyes and the slits of her father's cowl focused on her. "Apologies," she murmured in embarrassment. She nervously grinned up at her father. "Hello, Batman."

Batman glared down at her. "I'll deal with you later," he glowered before moving to stand between her and Artemis. Leta could feel the intensity of his glare from where she stood behind him. "Get out of my city and stay the _hell_ away from my daughter."

Leta flinched as Artemis' indignation and outrage rolled off her. "You know, _Batman_," she hissed, spitting out her father's moniker like it left a bad taste in her mouth. "I never understood why Diana chose you out of the countless men vying for her attention." Most would have missed the way her father bristled at the mention of her mother. "Your arrogance astounds me."

Seeing that the conversation was going south fast, Leta jumped in between them. "_Enough_," she snapped, channeling her inner princess before her father could make a biting retort. This back and forth was giving her a headache and she just wanted answers. "Artemis, why are you here?"

Artemis cocked an eyebrow. "Did you think I would let you slack off on your training?"

OoOoOo

"You've gotten sloppy," commented Artemis as she dodged another one of Leta's hits. Leta groaned in frustration but cooled her temper. The redhead was trying to upset her and make her lose focus. It wasn't going to work. "Perhaps I should have fought harder when your father came to collect you." A swift kick to the woman's ribs cut her off.

Leta glared as she aimed an uppercut at her jaw. "My father is one of the greatest warriors to ever live," she spat. She liked Artemis, but she would not stand for anyone insulting her father. Her anger was short-lived when she was met with a kick to her right shin. She stumbled and Artemis took that as an opportunity to flip her onto her back.

However, Leta was quick to steady herself, sweeping her leg through her opponent's. Artemis staggered and Leta caught her ankles, knocking her over. "The others would be appalled at such treacherous tactics," commented Artemis as she pulled herself up. Leta followed after. "Lucky for you, I am not the others."

"Earlier, you said that you wouldn't be welcomed back to Themyscira," Leta reminded her, her chest heaving slightly. Her father's wishes be damned, she couldn't let herself slack off. Luckily, two years of training had easily come back to her. Still, she knew she had a lot to work on. "What did you mean by that?"

"I would like to know that too," her father cut in. His cowl was off, but his cobalt eyes held silent fury. She knew that there were many times during their session that he'd wanted to intervene, but she had sent him a warning, pleading glance every time. The Amazons had a code of honor and part of that was engaging in clean, honest duels. She would not dishonor herself by allowing her father to save her.

Artemis paid her father no mind, instead pulling something from the bag slung upon her shoulder. " I have something for you, little warrior," she revealed, pulling the item out. "This, Princess Leta, is the reason I can never return."

Leta gasped as she realized what Artemis held in her hands. The fabric was a bold red accompanied by a brilliant blue, accented with white and gold. Truth and power radiated from it, giving her a sense of longing and nostalgia. Immediately, she knew why Artemis could never dare to return to Themyscira.

She had stolen her mother's armor.

"Why-" The words seemed to be stuck in her throat. There were so many thoughts racing through her head. Why did the Amazons have this? Diana had been wearing the armor when they had left two years ago. There were no tombs dedicated to her mother, so she had assumed that her body was gone. How had they gotten her armor?

"Why would you do this?" Leta finally settled on. She gazed up at the Amazon's amber orbs and had never seen such compassion in them.

Artemis gently touched her cheek. "This armor was Diana's," she recalled, her eyes flashing with an unknown emotion. "Your mother was the strongest, bravest, and kindest woman I have ever known. I also know that she would have wanted Wonder Woman's legacy to live on, to continued to protect the people of Man's World."

Her stomach clench as Artemis' gaze turned knowing. She had a feeling that she knew where the redhead was going with this.

"She would have wanted that legacy to live on in you," Artemis finished, her eyes piercing the young girl's soul.

"Absolutely not," her father interrupted. His eyes were hard as they settled on Artemis. "I know that Amazon's don't know how to properly raise children, but you don't condition a little girl to be a soldier."

Leta didn't know what hurt worse; the fact that Artemis wanted her to live up to her mother or the fact that her father believed she couldn't.

Artemis' nostrils flared, her warm gaze turning cold. "You know nothing of this, _mortal_," she spat. "Leta is an Amazon, a warrior born. It is her destiny to carry Diana's legacy."

"_Diana_ would have wanted Leta to live a happy, healthy life," Bruce retorted. She wasn't sure, but she had the feeling that he was struggling to keep his voice level. "She never would have wanted her to live up to her name. She wouldn't want that hanging over her head."

"Someone has to take the title," Artemis pointed out. "Wonder Woman has been missing for two years. Has that not caused disarray among your Justice League? Does Man's World not need Wonder Woman? Leta is on level with many Amazons now. She will make a fine warrior someday. She is the perfect candidate."

Leta had to admit that Artemis was half-right. Her mother had been a founding member of the Justice League. The world _needed_ Wonder Woman. But she wasn't sure that she could live up to that name. Wonder Woman was a bright spot, a beacon of hope. Could she ever hope to provide the inspiration that her mother had?

Suddenly, an idea came to her. "Why do you not take the title, Artemis?" she suggested.

Both the redhead and her father froze as if they hadn't thought of that. But it made sense. Of course, Artemis couldn't fly and her strength and speed weren't on par with Diana's, but she was the only Amazon that could match her mother in a fight. Other than Philippus, of course, but she didn't count.

Her mother would have liked that. If there was anyone she would have picked to be Wonder Woman in her place, it would be Artemis.

Artemis stiffened. "That title belongs to you and only you," she responded tersely. "It was Diana's and you are her daughter. Therefore, it is yours."

Leta tilted her head. "I doubt anyone will respond well to a six-year-old Wonder Woman," she pointed out. "Especially not my father or the other League members. I think that Mother would have wanted you to hold that title."

The redheaded woman seemed to be in deep contemplation as she regarded the girl in front of her. Leta felt Artemis' amber orbs bore into her as the woman mulled over her suggestion. "Perhaps that would be the best course of action," she reluctantly agreed. Leta was about to sigh in relief before the Amazon added, "For now."

Leta tensed. "What do you mean?" she questioned, fearing the worst.

Artemis straightened. "I meant what I said," she insisted. "This belongs to you. I will hold the title for now since you are still young, but only until you are ready. You will become Wonder Woman someday, little warrior. That I can guarantee."

Artemis was gone before she could blink.

Her father released a heavy sigh. "Stubborn, isn't she?" he remarked, approaching her slowly. He knelt down to her level, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to if you don't want to. No one can make you, do you understand? That's the last thing your mother would have wanted. That's the last thing _I_ want."

Leta took a deep breath. "I don't know," she admitted. She wanted nothing more than to honor her mother. But would she make a good Wonder Woman? She doubted it. No one could live up to the light of Diana, least of all her. Still, she had a feeling that Artemis wouldn't give her much of a choice in the matter.

He gave her a gentle kiss on the head that warmed her instantly. "It's yours if you want it," he assured her. He opened his arms to her and she immediately jumped into them. "I think it's time to get you to bed, don't you?"

She nodded, yawning into the crook of his neck. "I love you, Father."

Her father's hold on her tightened slightly. "I love you too, sweetheart."

OoOoOo

**So, it was Artemis! Who saw that coming? I was conflicted about having the world wait for Leta to become Wonder Woman because she's only six now and even in Origins she hadn't become Wonder Woman yet (or had she?). But then, I had the genius idea for Artemis to take over. It makes sense since Artemis was Wonder Woman in the comics for a while. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Another chapter! Here you go, dears! Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Leta's seventh birthday wish was to join her father in defending Gotham City.

The last few months since Artemis' "visit" had been uneventful for the most part. Gotham was Gotham, but the crime rate wasn't too bad. Leta was having no problems in school and the public seemed to adore her. Well, most of the public. There had been a few unsavory articles from Gotham Gazette, but it hadn't seemed to bother her.

Yes, things had almost been normal in their home. So this request had caught him by complete surprise.

Bruce stared at her for a while, trying to decipher if she was being serious or not. This was the father in him, of course. The Batman in him already knew that Leta didn't joke. "No," he told her curtly. Because, God, why did it have to be that? He gladly would have gotten her anything else. New clothes? He hadn't expected anything different. New dolls? He had been looking for an excuse to replace the ones she had stored away anyway. A pony? They had stables on the grounds.

Leta tilted her head as if analyzing him. He didn't like that. "Of course, Father," she finally accepted. She then retreated to her room as if she hadn't just given him a mini heart attack.

(He actually did end up giving her a pony. She had proudly deemed her Liberty.)

Bruce would have thought that would be the end of it, but she kept asking. Nearly every day was the same. It was always at times where he least expected it too. At the breakfast table, when she returned from school, and when he took her to work with him. She was persistent. No matter how many times he shot her down, she asked the same question the next day.

Finally, he'd had enough.

"Leta Martha Wayne, _enough_," snapped Bruce, a few weeks after her birthday. He glared down at her, trying to make sure that his answer stuck this time. "You're a six-year-old girl who has no business on the streets. You aren't going, end of discussion."

To his surprise, Leta glared right back up at him. "Just because _you_ are afraid, does not mean that I must be," she snapped back. She stood firm for a few moments before turning and stomping up the stairs.

He wasn't sure whether to be irritated or proud.

OoOoOo

Things were tense between them after that. Leta only spoke to him when spoken to and he only ever saw her at meals. She had stopped joining him in his office and he almost never saw her around the manor. Bruce didn't particularly like that his daughter wasn't talking to him, but he would rather have her angry at him and safe than out on the streets.

He had already lost her once. Why couldn't she understand his need to keep her safe?

If Bruce could have his way, Leta would never take up a mask nor cape. However, he knew that he could never make that decision for her. Once she got older, she was bound to follow in his and Diana's footsteps. She had a warrior's spirit, something he had seen in Diana as well.

It made him think; was he only delaying the inevitable? He could prevent her from being hurt now, but what about when she was older? When she moved out and decided to strike out on her own? When he wasn't there to watch over her, to protect her?

Would that be any better?

Bruce scowled to himself. He was allowing his heart to get the better of him. Leta was not to go out on patrol and that was his final decision. She was too young, too precious. She deserved to be safe, to be shielded from his dark world.

It wasn't lost on him that the last person he had tried to protect had been Diana.

Finally, Bruce'd had enough of her cold shoulder. "Get your shoes on, we're going to the park," he announced one day as he entered her room. His tone left no room for argument. He saw this as going two ways; she would either refuse vehemently or agree only to give him the cold shoulder. He wasn't sure which one was worse.

Instead, Leta gave him a bright smile. "Alright," she agreed easily. She quickly slid into her flats and took hold of his hand, tugging him out of her room and down the stairs. "Let us go."

Bruce stared down at her, bewildered. Either his daughter was doing this to spite him or she was having sporadic mood swings. He would have to talk to Dinah about it.

OoOoOo

"Father, I must offer my apologies."

Bruce nearly rolled his eyes. Of course she would. Why couldn't his six-year-old ever be immature? Just once, he wanted her to be irrationally stubborn. "What for?" he asked as they settled on one of the park benches. It was a beautiful day. He couldn't help the memories that swarmed his head of the two of them and Diana at this very park.

Leta lowered her head. "I've been acting as a child would," she admitted shamefully. "I must apologize for my actions these past few weeks."

He sighed, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I understand that this is frustrating for you." Really, he did. How many times had he told Alfred that his injuries weren't that bad? How often had he said to Diana that it was only a sprain or a graze? "But you have to understand that I need you to stay safe."

She peered up at her with big, blue eyes. "But I can fight," she reminded him. As if he needed it. Her sparring match with Artemis was still fresh in his mind. Speaking of the Amazon, he almost hoped that the redhead was ready to handle the Justice League. They had all adored Diana and might not take kindly to her replacement.

Bruce nodded, kissing the top of her head. "Very well," he agreed. "But you are still young. Your mother and I agreed that we wouldn't force you into this life." Though, somehow Diana had known that she would be drawn to it. Diana had known a lot of things like that.

"But is it forcing me if I'm volunteering?" Leta questioned intelligently, an eyebrow raised. And damn it all if she didn't remind him of her mother. "Would it not be preferable to do so under your rules and your watch?"

He hated to admit it, but she had him there. He was starting to think that she had inherited Diana's empathetic tendencies. "I'd rather you stay away from it altogether," he told her. Because that was the only way to guarantee her safety.

She gave him a sad smile. "If I were to do that, I would be labeled a coward in the eyes of the Amazons," she informed him. Sometimes, he wondered how she felt about the Amazons as a whole. Did she admire them? Fear them? Wish them to suffer painful and miserable deaths? She seemed to like Artemis and he didn't need to be the World's Greatest Detective to guess her feelings concerning Hippolyta.

Bruce took a deep breath. "But not in mine," he countered. "Honey, I don't doubt your ability or your intelligence. I know you are more than capable. But can you promise me that you won't get hurt or worse?" _'That I won't lose you?' _he added in his head,

Leta shook her head. "Of course not," she answered immediately. "But is that not part of life? Could I not trip on this sidewalk? Could I not break my arm riding a bicycle? There is always a risk of me getting injured. Or worse."

She definitely had a point there. His parents had been killed coming home from the movies. Sometimes, bad things happened that they had no control over. Even if Leta never got into the life, what if something else happened? What if she was hurt some other way? He had no way of controlling that, no matter how much he wanted to.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," confessed Bruce, looking out toward the horizon. And of course it wasn't. No sane father would let their child anywhere near the cave let alone on the streets.

Leta shrugged. "I will find my way eventually," she said, her eyes shining with determination. "You can try to stop me, but I know where my road leads. I presume you would rather watch over me than have me act on my own." And damn it all, he knew she was right.

He sighed. "I will think about it," he finally decided. Because was there really any point in stopping her?

OoOoOo

"You're putting too much power in yours hits," instructed Bruce weeks later. Was he really doing this? Of course he was because she was just too smart for her own good. "Make sure that they're diligent and quick so that your opponent doesn't intercept them." Diana used to do that too, only it was more effective for her. But Leta was small and not nearly as strong. Yet.

Leta nodded, complying. "The Amazons' technique is very different from yours," she remarked. Her movements were a bit awkward as she tried to mimic his.

He nodded. "It may take time for you to adjust," he agreed. But if she kept at it, things would fall into place for her. Of this, he was confident. "It's good that your stance is firm, but try not to be so stiff. Make it easier for yourself to evade an attack."

She tried to loosen up, only to lose her balance. She puffed out her cheeks. "That is difficult," she admitted. She tried again, her muscles relaxing as she positioned herself. "Like this?"

"Almost," Bruce told her, trying not to laugh. Her face was reminiscent of Diana's when he tried to teach her how to use the phone he'd bought her. "A little more practice and you'll get it."

Leta pursed her lips. "You can laugh if you must," she pouted. "I am a princess and as a princess, I can take criticism." Obviously, she didn't want him to laugh at her but she would take it with grace. No matter how embarrassed or insulted she was on the inside.

Diana would have come back with a stinging retort.

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. "It's alright if you don't get it the first time," he assured her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It takes practice. You'll be ready soon enough."

Sooner than he was ready for.

OoOoOo

Bruce found her in the cave one day, her eyes trained on the computer monitor. That wasn't a surprise; she had been keeping herself occupied with filling her mind with information. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted. He frowned when she didn't answer. He looked over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. The date was roughly six years ago, when she was one and- oh. _Oh_. He knew why she was so focused now. "Leta-"

"They took you," she interrupted. She didn't turn to look at him. "when I was a baby. Why?"

He almost flinched, bad memories resurfacing. She, of course, was talking about the League of Assassins. He had been apprehended by them when she was a little over one year old. Diana and Alfred had been out of their minds with worry. He didn't remember much of his time with them- most of it a foggy mess- but he did recall some unpleasant memories of Talia al Ghul, the daughter of the Demon Head.

They'd had something when he was still young, naive, and searching to fill the hole in his heart. But she had chosen her father and his twisted vision over him. But perhaps that was for the better since he had fallen for Diana and had been given Leta.

Those memories of the three of them together- even though most of them hurt now that Diana was gone- were worth everything to him.

Bruce forced himself to focus on his daughter's inquiring gaze. "I have a past with the al Ghuls," he finally answered cryptically. "They wanted to make decisions for my life that had already been made."

Leta finally turned to look at him, a bright spark in her eyes. Suddenly, he had a feeling that she knew _exactly_ what had happened. Well, maybe not exactly, but she got the general gist of it. "I see," she replied quietly. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Talia's picture.

"It's time for bed," Bruce quickly announced, scooping her into his arms. She squirmed a bit, but ultimately settled into them. He carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, finally setting her down onto her bed.

"They hurt you?" Leta questioned, peeking up at him knowingly.

He could have lied to her, to spare her innocence. "Yes..." But he didn't. She was too sharp, too intelligent for him to lie to her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'll beat them up," she promised, her tone sounding the youngest it had in years.

Bruce let out a startled laugh. Perhaps it was a good idea to have her friends around. They were a good influence on her. "I'm sure you will." He gently kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Leta."

Leta beamed up at him. "Goodnight, Father."

OoOoOo

**So, a bit of a time skip. Leta is now seven, which means we're a year away from Damian's arrival. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the wait, things have been crazy lately! Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

Damian's sudden appearance in their lives a year later put both him _and_ Leta on edge.

Bruce was unsure what to make of his long-lost son. Was he as innocent as Talia said? Or was he here to spy on them? To destroy them? He didn't know and he wasn't sure he wanted Leta around him. Then again, the girl had been trained by the Amazons. More reassuringly, she had been training with him for the last year. With that and her heightened abilities, he was sure that she could handle her brother.

Though, maybe he should be worried about Damian instead.

He saw it when she thought no one was looking. Leta threw poisonous looks at Damian behind his back. She glowered, she seethed, and he was afraid she was going to attack him. She never did, though, and maintained a mask of indifference in front of the boy.

A part of him was proud. He had nearly lost his temper of few times due to Damian's arrogance. Apparently, he had been raised as if he were the most important person in the world. As if the people around her were no more than bugs at his feet. But what could he expect from Talia and Ra's?

Bruce pulled Leta aside one day. "I know you don't trust him," he began gently. "and you have every right not to. But Damian is your brother. Under no circumstances are you to attack him."

Leta raised an eyebrow at him. "And if he attacks first?" she asked.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn't stupid, he knew how his daughter's mind worked. She was asking what to do if Damian was a spy. If he was sent to destroy them. "Then you act accordingly," he allowed quietly. "But he is family and I want you to remember that."

She curtly nodded before retreating to her room.

OoOoOo

"I refuse to endure this any longer!"

Bruce tried not to roll his eyes as he went to meet his children at the door. "How was school?" he asked nonchalantly. His son hadn't taken to the idea of school very well. He insisted that he was far above his classmates and while he was sure it was true, that wasn't the point. For one, he couldn't place a six-year-old in middle or high school, it would be suspicious. For another, he needed to make friends. Or at least be able to talk to other children.

Leta smiled at him. "Uneventful," she answered pleasantly. She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek before fleeing up the stairs. Smart girl.

Bruce looked down at his son. His son who was so prideful and angry and arrogant and _lost_. "Damian?" he questioned carefully.

Damian glared up at him with those green eyes. "Tedious as I expected," he spat. "Your set limitations may be accepted by my apparent _sister_, but don't presume that the same will be said for me."

He took a deep breath to cool his temper before it could rise. "These aren't limitations," he explained calmly. "I'm trying to make your transition into society easier. I _presume_ that the League of Assassins didn't have you interact much with other children."

The boy clenched his jaw. "They taught me all I needed to know," he hissed. "I could _teach_ classes more advanced than the one I'm in. If I am going to endure school, you could at least give me something better to do."

Bruce felt his gaze harden. "This isn't up for discussion," he snapped, losing his patience. It was as if there was no reasoning with the child. "Your sister attends school and you will as well."

Damian glared at him for one moment more before turning and stomping up the stairs. Bruce sighed. What was he going to do with that boy?

OoOoOo

Bruce had no idea what happened, but he was grateful for it.

Damian no longer talked down to Leta. Granted, he was far from being a loving brother, but at least he was being civil. He even made attempts to make small talk with her. Leta, in turn, seemed to adopt the role of an older sister. She periodically asked Damian what he needed and how his day was and if anyone at school was bothering him. There were no more glares or underlying insults.

He wondered if it had to do with the fight they had gotten into.

It gave him a sense of pride to know that his children were getting along. Their relationship wasn't perfect- perhaps it would never be- but they were both trying. That was all he could ask for.

Now, if only his relationship with Damian would improve. He just found it hard to connect with the boy. Their values, their upbringing, their beliefs; everything about them was different. He supposed that might have been why he got along with Leta. Perhaps they had bonded over their similar backgrounds.

He would just have to keep trying. If an eight-year-old girl could do it, he could too. Right?

OoOoOo

_'Fury to Batman.'_

Batman's eyes narrowed as he picked up the communication. "Batman here," he rasped. His hands tightened on the steering wheel of the Batmobile. He felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stick up, suddenly on edge. His daughter was fiercely independent and rarely asked for help on patrol. This made him fear that something was wrong. "What is it?"

_'We have a bit of a problem. Can you come meet me?'_

He grunted, turning the car around. "Are you hurt?" he demanded. She better not have been. "What's your location?"

_'I'm alright,' _Fury assured him quickly. _'I just think you need to see for yourself.' _He heard a very familiar voice in the background, followed by his daughter's indignant response, _'You are fortunate that it was me that found you and not him!'_

Batman tensed. "Is that your brother?" he snapped, rage suddenly coursing through his veins. Instantly, he thought had dropped onto a rooftop only to witness his six-year-old daughter about to engage with a six-foot-tall, armed Amazon. Apparently, no offspring of his had the ability to stay put.

_'Well, if you've ever had the pleasure of meeting any other sword-wielding six-year-olds, I would love to hear about it,' _came her snippy response. Whatever Damian had done must have pissed her off because she _never_ talked back. Though, she was quick to rectify this, _'Apologies for my tone. We're on the corner of Seventh and Main.'_

He sighed heavily, punching in the coordinates. "On my way," he told her. "Stay put and make sure _he_ does too."

_'Copy that.'_

It was going to be a long night.

OoOoOo

Batman stood to his full height as he approached the two of them. Fury silently moved to reveal Damian who was sporting a black eye. A few feet away lied an unconscious Ubu, one of Ra's men who had gone rogue and aligned with Deathstroke. He had been the one to betray the al Ghuls. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he snapped. He wanted nothing more than to snatch his son by his shirt and drag him back to the manor. But he knew he couldn't do that.

At least, not without finding out what he was up to.

Damian glared. "_You've_ been keeping things from me!" he seethed, fury flashing in his green orbs. "You _knew_ Ubu was here in Gotham and you didn't tell me!"

He glowered, narrowing his eyes behind his cowl. "It was none of your business," he shot back. "You are a six-year-old boy with no business being here!" He quickly scanned the extent of the man's injuries. God, was Damian trying to kill him?

It wasn't as if Damian was raised by assassins his whole life. Noted.

Fire seemed to ignite withing his small son. "_He is the reason for my grandfather's death_!" he roared. "This is my fight more than anybody's!"

Batman was going to retort when Fury chose that moment to get between them. "I hate to interrupt," she began calmly. "but I called the police around five minutes ago. They should be here with an ambulance. Moving would be a wise decision, I think. Batman, perhaps you should call Agent A to collect him."

His anger quelled slightly at his daughter's suggestion. "Fine," he bit out. He grabbed Damian by his collar and shot his grappling gun to the nearest rooftop. He ignored his son's struggles as he glided away, Fury flying beside them.

Batman dropped him off on the next rooftop over. "Stay here," he growled. "We'll talk later. Let's go, Fury."

Fury nodded. "Of course Batman." She gave her brother a small smile before following him into the night.

OoOoOo

Ubu was barely alive.

Damian had dislocated his jaw, ruptured his spine, and broken various bones throughout his body. And that was only what they knew about because Jim didn't sound so sure that there wasn't _more_. God, that man was on the verge of death because of _his_ son. It was apparent that he'd made a mistake, not paying more attention to Damian. The longer he allowed Ra's influence to fester inside him, the worse this would get.

Leta- whose headpiece was off, the confusion clouding her identity in his head gone- wisely stayed off to the side. He took in her suit, which was really more armor than anything. Obviously inspired by her mother's. Her eyes were on him as if she knew he was going to explode.

God, how did she do that?

Bruce turned his glare to his son. "How dare you," he thundered. "What were you planning to do tonight? Maim him? _Kill_ him?"

Damian was, unsurprisingly, unapologetic. "He's a traitor," he spat. "He _deserves_ death."

He shoved the chair away from him in a flare of anger. He could hardly believe the insolence, the _audacity_ of the boy in front of him. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could take the life of another out of vengeance? "You were out of line," he fired back.

"I am not a child!" snapped Damian, stalking forward. He looked up at him, a challenge in his eyes. "And it is time for you to stop treating me as such!"

Bruce glowered down at him. "You acted as a _child_ would," he pointed out. He turned around, more than done with the conversation. "Go upstairs. And if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I'll-"

"You'll _what_?" his son demanded, cutting in front of him. "Ground me? Lock me in my room? Because if you hadn't noticed, you've already done so! You don't trust me- you've _never_ trusted me- so do not pretend that you did!"

He probably should have dropped it, but his temper was spiking. This kid was _pushing_ him. The six- which should have been eight- years raising Leta hadn't prepared him for this. "Trust has to be earned," he shot back. "You're not going out and you're not going after Deathstroke so you can get the thought out of your head."

Damian growled with rage before turning and stalking up the stairs. Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. When he did, he saw Leta who looked particularly pale. But Bruce knew it wasn't wise to be around her right now, lest she be the next target of his anger. "Take a shower and change," he ordered harsher than he should have. "Then it's straight to bed, do you understand?"

Leta bit her lip but nodded. "Of course, Father," she agreed quickly, scampering out of sight.

Once she was gone, Bruce sighed and all but collapsed into his chair. It was times like this that he missed Diana more than usual. She would know what to do with Damian. She would have known how to comfort Leta. He really was lost without her.

Dammit, Alfred had made raising a child look _so easy_.

OoOoOo

**A bit of a time jump, yes. Damian has appeared! I figured it was time to bring him into the fold. And I've also come to the decision that everyone else will be in this story, it'll just take a really long time. At least, I think that's what I'll do. Who knows with me? Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"Father, this will not go over well."

There was a bit of agitation in Leta's voice as she spoke. Bruce supposed that was understandable. After all, this was last minute and she had been looking forward to her little outing. She had planned it weeks ago. He could understand why she wasn't taking too kindly to the intrusion. But it wasn't as though he had a choice. At this point, the house was going to explode with all the tension inside.

Bruce fixed her with a hard stare, something he rarely had to do. "It's not up for negotiation," he replied tersely. "Your brother is going with you and that's final."

A hint of anger flashed in his daughter's eyes but was gone the next moment. "If you say so, Father," she accepted with a nod. "I will go inform Damian of this development."

He sighed as she left, burying his face in his hands. The arguments between them had been nonstop since Damian had gone hunting down Ubu without his permission. The man was in no better shape and there were no leads about what he was doing and Gotham or if Deathstroke had accompanied him. Or if they were after his son.

Bruce hoped that Leta's friends would be able to get through to them as they had her. However, he doubted this would be the case. Leta's friends had known her since they were babies. They had missed her, loved her, and were willing to help her with what she needed. Leta also fought against her grandmother's influence, trying her best to readjust to their world.

But Damian was angry, stubborn, and clinging to his upbringing. He didn't want to change and he refused to see that the League of Assassins were wrong. The boy's combat skills were good- perhaps even better than his sister's- but Bruce would not allow him on the streets. Not if he was going to cross that line.

He doubted that his daughter's friends would appreciate the intrusion. He just hoped- _prayed_\- that Damian wouldn't cause trouble.

OoOoOo

Though her face remained impassive, Leta was seething on the inside.

Damian was her brother by blood and always would be, but he was _not_ ready to meet her friends. He would end up insulting them, she was sure. Rex would fire back at him and poor Danica would probably cry. Hera, if Danica ended up crying, she would never forgive herself. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her friends, even if indirectly.

Her lip curled in anger. This was her father's fault. Just because he didn't want to deal with his son-!

Leta took a deep breath, calming herself down. She was unused to feeling angry with her father. It normally didn't happen because she wholly trusted him and his decisions. But- as she was quickly learning- emotions weren't his forte. She shouldn't be upset with him. It wasn't that he didn't want to deal with Damian, he just didn't know how.

And, if she was being honest, neither did she.

She found her brother outside in the garden, wielding their great-grandfather's sword. The young girl winced as he sliced through the gorgeous animal shrubs. He was akin to an angry, wild boar on Themysicra. A destructive force tearing apart anything in his path.

"Yes, _Princess_?" spoke Damian, suddenly turning to face her. There was an intensity in his emerald orbs and for a moment, she thought he would attack her next.

Leta nearly scowled at the name- he referred to people by their last names, but since he couldn't do that with her, he chose to mock her title- but refrained. "Father sent me here," she revealed. "He has decided that you will accompany me to visit my companions this afternoon. We are meeting them on the Watchtower."

He sneered. "You can tell Father that he can stop trying to keep me away from Gotham," he snapped. "Least of all forcing me to interact with children."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "They are all older than you, brother," she responded. Their relationship was tense at best and she often found patience wearing thin with him. "And you may tell him yourself for I am not your messenger nor your servant. But I wouldn't bother. If Father says you're going, you're going."

Damian glared at her before closing the distance between them. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she immediately straightened to her full height. She was taller than Damian by a good few inches, but she doubted that mattered to him. "You may allow Father to treat you as a simpleton, but I will not," he hissed. "He will not stop me from avenging my grandfather."

Leta's eyes narrowed. "The men who wronged your family will be caught," she said firmly. "Father will be sure of it." She wanted to tell him that his mother and grandfather belonged in cells themselves, but didn't dare. Despite everything, Damian loved his family. He was hurting, she knew, and she didn't want to open the wound.

His gaze hardened. "They don't deserve anything less than death," he nearly spat.

She inhaled deeply. She knew it was difficult for him to comprehend their father's ways. Hades, it was difficult for her to understand sometimes. The Amazons had taught her that sometimes it was necessary to kill. They were soldiers, warriors. Death was unavoidable. But, somehow, their father avoided it.

Leta took a step away from her brother. "Just be prepared to leave by one," she requested. "And please, do not insult my friends. I rather like not being alone." 'Unlike you,' she wanted to add.

Damian rolled his eyes. "We will see."

That was as good as she was going to get.

OoOoOo

Damian crossed his arms as he begrudgingly trekked after his older sister. He had no interest in meeting her so-called 'friends.' Such companionship was trivial to him. Friends were liabilities, obstacles to one's goals. Why she saw fit to spend time with them alluded him. And this Watchtower was far from as impressive as he was led to believe.

Next to him, Leta's eyes narrowed. "I would wholly appreciate it if you did not glower at my friends," she spoke softly. "You may scare Danica and Rex will not take kindly to your hostility."

A sneer formed before he could think about stopping it. "And what would the Hawk do about it?" he retorted. He had been training his entire life. Her little friends couldn't hold a candle to him.

She glanced at him. "So you've read their files," she realized. A hint of a smirk pulled at her lips. "I know that asking you to be friends with them is a lost cause, but try to enjoy yourself, brother. Or at least attempt to not be miserable."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Unlikely." He knew what his father was doing. He was keeping him out of Gotham intentionally. He wasn't like the 'Golden Girl' next to him. He couldn't stay under his thumb. Envy stung his heart. How did the princess do it? How did she follow his every order? _Why_ did she follow his every order?

They came upon a room that resembled his first-grade classroom. Two children- a boy and a girl- sat in the middle of the room, a man dressed crudely in red at the front. He presumed that the children were Danica Williams and Reginald Stewart and that the man was Barry Allen, the Flash.

The man grinned at the sight of them. Or rather, grinned at his sister. "Hey, kiddo!" he greeted pleasantly rushing over to them. In fact, he was next to them faster than Damian could blink. Before he could react, the man hoisted his sister on his shoulders. "How's my favorite niece?"

Much to his surprise, Leta gave him a grin, albeit small, of her own. "Uncle Barry, you only say that when Iris II isn't around," she replied. "She should be your favorite because she is _actually_ your niece."

Allen tilted his head in thought. "I guess," he relented. "How about this? You're my favorite niece over four."

"Barry!" whined Williams, also zipping over. The girl had a wild head of curls that bounced when she moved. "Stop hogging her! That's _my_ best friend!" Her adopted father released Leta, who was swept into a hug by the girl. Damian was almost shocked when he saw his sister hug back. He had never seen her so affectionate.

"Actually, she's my best friend," announced Stewart, crossing his arms. His green eyes, which held a hard edge, immediately warmed at the sight of Leta. So, this was his enemy.

Leta smiled brilliantly at him, moving to embrace him as well. "I can possess two best friends," she told him, completely serious.

Damian was utterly confused. What in the world was happening?

His sister turned to him, still smiling. "Danica, Rex, Uncle Barry, this is my brother, Damian," she announced. She moved to stand next to him, though not so close that she was touching him.

Williams tilted her head and he was surprised to see the gears turning in her eyes. He had assumed that these would be simple children, incapable of intelligence. But this girl was obviously proving him wrong because she offered him a hesitant, careful smile. "I'm Danica," she introduced.

The edge to Stewart's eyes returned. "Rex," he said curtly, nodding.

Damian kept his face impassive. "I know," he replied simply. Because what else was there to say? He _did_ know who they were. But apparently, this was the wrong thing to say because even _he_ could feel the tension in the room.

Leta cleared her throat. "Why don't we depart?" she suggested. "Uncle Barry, you had somewhere to take us, did you not?"

Allen grinned. "Oh yeah!" he agreed. "Let's go, kids!" Damian glared at his sister when she linked arms with him, then Williams. Still, he reluctantly followed the man along with them.

Though, he had a feeling he was going to dread this.

OoOoOo

Two hours later, Leta and Damian were sitting in the foyer of Wayne Manor, drenched with water.

Bruce felt his blood pressure rise. "So, let me get this straight," he began carefully. He was only barely able to stop himself from shouting at the two of them. "The two of you ran away from Barry, crept into the lion habitat, _tried to set the lions free_, and ended up falling into the dolphin exhibit of all things?" He leveled the two of them with a glare. "Did I miss anything?"

Leta's facade nearly held. "No, that is correct," she answered. There was a slight shake in her voice.

Damian glared up at him. "No wonder Grandfather was set on correcting this _wretched world_!" he seethed. "You keep animals in captivity for _entertainment_!"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Ra's al Ghul has done worse," he drawled. Who knew that his son had a weakness for animals? "Leta, why would you do this? We've been to the zoo before."

She peered up at him with big, sad eyes. "You didn't tell me that they were _kidnapped_," she murmured, her bottom lip trembling. "They were stolen from their homes. Father, that is _terrible_."

Oh, for the love of God.

Bruce sighed, massaging his temple. Why were his children so wonderfully selfless and intelligently stupid? "You two can't just free animals from the zoo," he told them.

Damian crossed his arms. "I shall free every kidnapped animal with my dying breath!" he declared. "You can not stop me!"

He felt the urge to smack his forehead. That was it, he was never allowing Allen to take his children out again. Not if this was the outcome. "Change your clothes," he snapped at them. "I have to issue an apology to the zoo." Hopefully, Shayera would stay off his case about reigning in his children. Though, that was unlikely.

Leta stood, somehow graceful even when sopping wet. "Of course, Father," she agreed. She tugged on her brother's arm. "Let us go, brother, while Father panders to monsters who tear animal families apart."

Bruce blinked as they left, wondering if Damian was corrupting Leta or if it was the other way around.

OoOoOo

**I had way too much fun with the end there! I feel as though Damian and Leta would bond over their shared love of animals. Also, Damian didn't get along with Rex or Danica at all, in case anyone was wondering. So he won't really be involved with them. His generation will be Jonathan Kent, Iris West II, etc. Anyway I hope you liked it and please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Just a simple note. As I work the plot out in my head, I realize that somethings may not line up exactly with Origins. This is because I was just figuring things out. It's really more of a reference than anything so that you (and I) are aware of ages and the timeline. Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

At his first public event, Damian nearly stabbed a reporter in the throat.

It took a good portion of Leta's strength to drag her brother into a hidden alcove. Fortunately, everyone was none the wiser. "What were you _thinking_?" she hissed. Hera, if anyone pushed her buttons, it was Damian. She had never met someone so impulsive and temperamental in her life. And she was best friends with _Rex Stewart_, of all people. "You are not allowed to stab whomever you please!" Should that not have been obvious?

Damian scoffed, yanking his arm away. "The fool made disparaging speculations about my mother," he informed her. "Am I supposed to tolerate that?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Forgive me, brother, but did you not make similar comments about mine?" she snapped back. Of all the hypocrisy... She bit her tongue, holding back all that she wanted to say. Damian reminded her of some of the haughty, conceited children that attended these galas.

She sometimes wondered how much more alike they would be if she had spent more than two years on Themyscira.

He merely rolled his eyes at her. "You attacked me, did you not?" he shot back. Alright, he may have had her there.

Leta huffed. "A word of advice, dear brother," she began slowly. "If you want to assist Father with his goals, prove to him that you can. That begins here." She'd had to earn _her_ moniker, after all. Just as she had to earn the title of Wonder Woman when she was older. That was, if she wanted it by then.

Damian seemed to consider her words before shaking his head. "I do not need your help," he snapped, glaring. He stalked away from her and she could feel the agitation rolling off of him.

She sighed, retreating to her father's side. He was in the middle of talking, his voice jovial and boisterous. A mere mask. She _detested_ this Bruce Wayne, necessary though he may be. She would choose Batman any day.

By the subtle, annoyed twitch of his lip, she could tell that he would too.

Upon seeing her, her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hi, honey," he greeted pleasantly. "Are you having fun?"

Leta adopted her own forced facade. "Oh yes, Father," she chirped, lacing her fingers with his larger ones. The small group cooed at the 'precious, perfectly behaved princess.' She wanted to roll her eyes. She knew what these people said behind her father's back. "I think Damian is enjoying himself as well."

He smiled at her. "That's good." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you tired? We'll be leaving soon. Why don't you get your brother?"

She nodded, quickly excusing herself. She often did this when they attended these events. There was only so much socializing that either of them could take, after all. She knew her tolerance limit and, more importantly, she knew _his_ tolerance limit. She approached him when she knew it was time for them to go.

Leta set off to find Damian, eyes scanning the crowd for him. She finally spotted her brother, dressed in his new suit and his hair parted, and began to walk over to him. That was when she heard it.

"She can't be his."

She froze, a horrible feeling settling in her stomach. The young girl turned her head slightly, spotting the culprits. Ms. Graham and Mrs. Girard, two of Gotham's oldest socialites. And, perhaps, the most detested. Ms. James was divorced, her husband leaving her thirty years prior. Mrs. Taylor was nothing more than a bitter widow, her marriage arranged by her father.

It seemed that these two women had nothing better to do than gossip.

Mrs. Girard tilted her head. "Are you sure, Gwendolyn?" she questioned. "She looks an awful lot like Wayne's former fiance."

This confirmed what she'd already known. They were talking about her.

Ms. Graham rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm sure, Julia," she hissed. "That woman was loose, I'm sure of it. Did you see the way that Diana Prince dressed? Scandalous!" She looked downright delighted to soil the name of Leta's mother. "The boy is proof. Why would one child look more like him than the other?"

Leta self-consciously touched her face. She knew she favored her mother, but did she really look nothing like her father? Was it easier to believe that Damian was their father's child than herself?

Mrs. Girard hummed in thought. "That is true," she admitted. "Perhaps Prince was already pregnant when they met. Do you suppose she forced her bastard onto him?"

The thought made Leta sick. Of course, she knew it wasn't true, she'd seen pictures of her parents together before her mother was pregnant. And she'd been fresh off Themyscira when she'd joined the Justice League. What men could she have possibly been fooling around with?

Suddenly, she resonated with her brother's anger.

Ms. Graham nodded, her dull eyes alight with vigor. "Without a doubt." She went on to say more, but Leta tuned their conversation out. She quickly threw herself through the crowd, intent on finding her brother. Their words swirled through her head, her heart racing and tears pricking her eyes.

She dug her nails into her arm. 'Don't cry.'

Leta found him leaning against an isolated wall. "We're leaving," she snapped at him. Her eyes stung, but she refused to give in. Least of all in front of her younger brother. Least of all with those harpies less than ten feet away.

Damian scoffed, moving toward her. "It's about ti-" He stopped, his eyes settling on her face. His expression morphed instantly, somewhere between curious and bemused. "What's wrong with you?"

Inside, she seethed. It was none of his business! He didn't care, so why ask? Outside, she maintained her frosty exterior. She would not fall apart in front of Damian. "Father told me to collect you," she bit out. "Let's go." Without waiting for his response, she turned and made her way back toward their father. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to get back to the Manor.

She needed to work out her aggression.

OoOoOo

While his sister was throwing her temper tantrum in the cave, Damian took the opportunity to explore Wayne Manor. He usually didn't get the chance with her or their father watching his every move. He scowled to himself at the reminder. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that they were suspicious of him. Though, perhaps they had a right to be.

His mother had told him stories of his father. A great warrior and even greater detective who had once trained under his grandfather. He had taken a noble oath to protect his city, to fight against the disorder it faced every day. For his entire life, he had dreamed of meeting his father.

But his mother hadn't told him everything. In fact, she hadn't told him most things. Like how his father posed as that oaf he'd seen at the gala. Or how he was distant and mistrusting. Or how he didn't kill.

That was why his father hadn't stayed with the League. That was why he looked at Damian with disappointment and caution.

Honestly, he couldn't wrap his head around it. These criminals had taken lives, had destroyed families. What did allowing them to live accomplish? He had read one of his reports about an eight-year-old boy who had been sexually abused by his foster father. Leta was eight and he was a boy. What if something like that happened to her? To him? Would that drive his father over the edge or would he fail to avenge them?

The League purged scum like that. They cut the problem down at its root so that more weeds wouldn't grow. Cells couldn't contain criminals forever. They would break out or be released and cause havoc all over again.

It was a never-ending cycle that his father refused to put a stop to.

Damian stopped as he came upon two large portraits. The first was of his father in between a man and a woman. He instantly knew that these were his grandparents. His mother had described their deaths as what started his father on his journey.

The other was of his father and Leta, although the girl in the portrait was a far cry from his sister. The young girl had dull eyes and seemed to want to make herself invisible. That wasn't his sister. His sister was unmovable and bold, her eyes intelligent and sharp. The portrait was dated when she was his age. He vaguely wondered what changed in those two years.

"We take one whenever a new family member is added."

Damian started, his father suddenly standing next to him. The man was contemplative as he stared at the portraits. "Why did you wait until she was six?" he questioned. He thought back to what she had told him during their first fight. "Did you not know of her either?" That would explain why his mother wasn't aware of her existence.

His father's face betrayed nothing. "Leta was born here," he revealed, his voice hollow. He didn't look at him. "She lived here for the first four years of her life."

Damian raised an eyebrow. If she lived here until she was four and she was here the last two years, where was she between ages four and six? "What is that supposed to mean?"

His father closed his eyes. "That's something she has to tell you." He turned his attention to the first portrait.

"Those are your parents," Damian voiced. He didn't need to be told, so he figured he would save his father the pain.

The man nodded, whatever pain he could have been feeling completely masked. "They are." He turned away. "We'll have a portrait with you done in a few weeks."

Damian watched his father retreat, questions swarming in his head. He didn't know much about Leta other than the fact that her mother was a princess and hailed from a place called, 'Themyscira.' She also had certain abilities similar to that of other heroes (enhanced speed, flight, enhanced strength, durable skin).

Perhaps he should look more into his sister.

OoOoOo

He crept into the cave while his father and sister were on patrol.

It infuriated Damian to no end that Leta could go on patrol and he couldn't. There were only two years between them and it wasn't as though he was any less skilled. A sparring match a few weeks ago proved that the only thing that the girl had over him was strength and speed. His combat skills were superior, if only slightly. He knew that the real reason was that his father didn't trust him.

He refused to admit how much that hurt.

Damian easily logged onto his father's massive computer system. His mother had forced him to learn his way around technology, though he had never seen much of a use for it. He was a warrior, what use did he have for such trivial things. Though, now, he supposed it had been fortunate.

It took him a while, but he managed to find Leta's file. He hummed in annoyance, fighting through the resilient firewall blocking her information. Apparently, whatever was in her file, his father didn't want anyone to see. Interesting.

Damian frowned at the firewall blocked him at every turn. Whatever information the file held must have been extremely confidential. This level of hacking was far beyond his level. Dammit.

"What are you doing?"

He jumped slightly, so focused on the task at hand that he didn't hear his sister return. He quickly recovered, baring his teeth in agitation. "It's none of your concern," he growled. "Why have you returned so early?"

Leta raised an eyebrow at him as she took off her headpiece. The fuzziness around her identity receded as her hair fell into her face. "I broke my wrist," she told him nonchalantly, raising said appendage. "Father demanded that I come straight here. Now, why are you trying to get into my file?"

Damian cursed under his breath. "I was merely bored," he told her. And it wasn't a lie. He wanted so desperately to join them that he found it difficult to busy himself. "And Father had mentioned something about your past that intrigued me. So I wanted to look into it."

Her expression turned contemplative as she ran her hand along the monitor. "What, exactly, did Father tell you?"

He blinked, his eyes suddenly focused on her wrist. "Wait, you broke your wrist?" he repeated. He had broken his wrist climbing a mountain at three years old, but even he had to favor it. She looked fine. "Why does it not look broken?"

Leta shrugged. "I heal fast," she told him cryptically. "Father, however, tends to be paranoid, so he insisted that I return. Now, what did he tell you?"

"That you were born here," Damian revealed. "And that you lived here with him until the age of four."

She hummed in thought. "Interesting," she remarked. "I appreciate you trying to learn more about me, but if you were curious you could have asked."

Immediately, he scowled. "I have no interest in you," he retorted sharply. How could the cretin even think that she took any of his mental capacity? He had better things to concern himself with. Like hunting down Slade Wilson. "I merely had nothing better to do."

The corners of Leta's lips twitched in amusement. "Of course not," she agreed to appease him. She leaned against the desk, seemingly lost in thought. "My mother was a hero of this world and one of the founders of the Justice League. She was the original Wonder Woman."

Damian knew of Wonder Woman, of course. She was the redhead warrior woman who guarded Gateway City and member of the Justice League. It hadn't occurred to him that there had been a holder of the moniker before her. "What happened to her?"

Her eyes flashed with something- pain, perhaps- before it was gone. "I am unsure," she answered tersely. "Though, my grandmother probably executed her for treason." She quickly changed the subject. "Mother brought me to Themyscira when I was four. I do not recall exactly what happened when we arrived, but my grandmother and the Amazons raised and trained me as their princess."

He raised an eyebrow. "What did she do to deserve such a punishment?" It was hard to wrap his head around the story. If this woman was a princess, why disobey her mother? He couldn't imagine his mother disobeying his grandfather?

Leta closed her eyes for a moment. "She had me," she revealed. She turned away from him curtly, walking off.

No, Damian could not see his mother going against his grandfather. Not even for _him_.

OoOoOo

**Just a heads-up, that is the most that anyone will get out of Leta about her past for a while. Also, I have decided that this book will be reaaaalllyyy long, so I hope you're ready. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I KNOW it's been a while and I'm SO sorry! I just lost inspiration for a minute there. Anyway, please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

It had been an entire year when Damian finally demanded to be apart of patrol.

Bruce refused vehemently, which sparked another argument. Of course, that was nothing new. The fights between them were common and he often found himself losing patience. Whenever they fought- which was usually right after patrol- Leta would make herself scarce. In fact, she seemed to be doing that a lot. Failure stung his heart; he couldn't get along with one child and the other opted not to be around him.

He really wished Diana was here. She wouldn't let the words of a boy get to her. She wouldn't allow their daughter to draw into herself. She would have the patience to deal with both situations.

He did not. Though, he knew he had to do something. He opted to go through the easiest challenge first. He could almost hear Diana calling him a coward.

Bruce finally gathered the courage to corner his daughter one night in the library. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted carefully, sitting in the armchair across from her. Leta was the easier child by default, obedient and almost timid around him. He was sure this was Hippolyta's doing.

Leta immediately went rigid, but forced a smile onto her face. "Hello, Father," she replied. Hesitantly, she put her book to the side.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," he continued. Even he was aware of how lame it sounded. "How's school?"

She glanced away for a moment. "Alright," she replied tentatively. Her eyebrows furrowed and he had a feeling that she had inherited Diana's empathy. Or maybe he was just really bad at this. "Father, is this about Damian?"

"Somewhat," answered Bruce. When had he become so easy to read to a nine-year-old? "But I want to see how you're doing. I hope that your brother and I haven't been scaring you."

Leta tilted her head in thought, silence cutting through the room for a moment. "Father, would you ever hurt Damian?" she asked slowly.

He nearly flinched. "No," he answered immediately. "Of course not." Because God, was this what his daughter thought of him? That he would lose his temper with Damian one day and react physically? It was a horrible notion, but he knew his daughter. She was no fool and she wasn't one to make things up either.

If she asked that, then something he had done made her think it.

She gave him a half-smile. "I know," she responded easily. "I just had to make sure. My brother is a handful, isn't he?" She marked her page and stood up. "Damian may be a pain, but he is an excellent warrior with a good heart. You should consider allowing him to join us."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as his child morphed into a wise Amazon princess before his eyes. "He's dead-set on taking vengeance on his grandfather's killers," he reminded her. "Do you think he'll make the right choices when it comes down to it?"

Leta shrugged. "Perhaps," she answered flippantly. "Perhaps not. But he'll be more inclined to listen to you if you show that you trust him." She waved her hand gracefully, as is she was a diplomat negotiating peace. Though, frankly, she kind of was. "Give him a chance and see what he does with it." With that, she left the library swiftly.

That little girl never failed to boggle his mind.

OoOoOo

"Damian."

"Father."

He found his son blowing off steam in the Cave. The tension between them was ice-cold, yet seconds away from exploding. Bruce knew the boy was still upset with him, more-so than usual. Fights between them weren't uncommon, though nothing had been as bad as last night. Nothing even came close. Last night, they had both reached their limit with one another.

Bruce constantly had to remind himself that Damian was only a child and that he couldn't lose his temper. No matter how infuriating he was. "Your sister thinks that I should give you a chance on the streets," he stated plainly. Because the only way to talk to the boy was directly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Damian's eyes narrowed with annoyance. "Hm," he grumbled. "Odd how you trust her word so easily."

He raised an eyebrow. Was that envy he detected? "I'm still considering," he admitted. "Your sister is wise beyond her years, but she may have only said that to stop us from tearing each other apart." Well, not really, because Leta wouldn't do that. Still, a poor attempt at humor may soften the situation.

It didn't.

His son's emerald orbs held mistrust. "What did she do?" he demanded, his voice laced with bitterness. "I am a better fighter than her. I'm more intelligent than her." Actually, they were practically tied. Damian may have had a bit more skill with the sword, but Leta's enhanced strength easily gave her an edge of her own. As for intelligence, well, the Wisdom of Athena went a long way. "She tells me that she earned her right. How?"

It made sense in a way. Damian had always been told that certain things would belong to him. Batman, the League, just to name a few. Of course he was struggling with the idea that he didn't automatically have a place by his side. Of course Leta saw that and of course he didn't.

Bruce thought long and hard about this. How had Leta earned a place in his crusade? Similarly, he supposed, to how her mother earned a place in his heart. She took all his reasons for denial and threw them back in his face. She had forced him to open his mind to the decision. She made herself known to him.

At one point, he was unsure if he was thinking about Leta or Diana anymore.

Finally, he looked at his son. Really looked at this lost, angry, and sad little boy. An almost perfect match for another boy who lost everything in the span of one night. Perhaps his daughter was right. Maybe Damian needed this.

"She proved me wrong," Bruce finally answered.

And, he supposed, that was all Damian needed to hear.

OoOoOo

A few months later, Redbird emerged alongside Batman and Fury.

He had to admit, whatever hidden animosity was between his son and daughter seemed to be forgotten as soon as they left the Cave. The two of them worked incredibly well together. Damian's skill somehow seemed to piggyback off Leta's strength. They were complete opposites, yet that only served to make them stronger. They were a fearsome duo, leaving the entirety of Gotham's underbelly pissing themselves.

As much as he wished they would stay far away from this part of his life, he couldn't have been prouder. The two of them were so utterly remarkable.

Which was why Bruce nearly growled at the unexpected presence in the Cave one night. "Talia," he bit out. He had just ordered the children to go to bed, so he made sure his voice was quiet. "What do you want?"

Talia came out of the shadows and observed him, her emerald eyes taking him in. "You waited more than a year," she observed, her voice hard. "Why?"

He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling defensive. What was her goal here? "I needed to be sure he could handle it," he answered carefully. He had loved this woman, a long time ago. Long before he dawned the cowl. But after what had happened all those years ago... It was hard to find even a little of that love now. She had picked her father over him. But when he'd started seeing Diana...

She hadn't been able to handle it. Talia al Ghul wasn't used to not getting what she wanted.

Talia changed the subject. "That daughter of yours," she spoke slowly. Immediately, he was put on edge. "She's quite extraordinary, isn't she?" She let out a wry chuckle. "But of course, I suppose that's what happens when you sire a child with an Amazon. I have to wonder what she did that I couldn't."

She knew exactly what. Talia had nothing of the pure light that had radiated from Diana. He had been like a moth drawn to a flame, but this flame wouldn't burn him on impact. Not like Talia would. Diana's flame was warm and safe and emitted pure _love_. That was something that Talia would never be able to imitate, no one would.

"Why are you here, Talia?" demanded Bruce. He didn't like the way he talked about Leta. And Damian may have been her son, but he was his too. He wouldn't let her drag him back into the League's clutches. God, not even the Amazons had raised Leta to be a vicious, violent murderer. He felt himself losing whatever respect he'd had for the woman across from him.

Her emerald orbs- Damian's emerald orbs- narrowed. "I just wanted to make sure my son was being treated as he should be," she replied smoothly. "He is your heir, after all. One day he will take up your mantle."

He felt his own eyes narrow. "Is that why he's here?" he demanded. "So you could get rid of me and sink your claws into Gotham through him?" He wouldn't put it past the woman. Perhaps she did love Damian, but her devotion was always to her father and the League first. She would carry out his desires, even if he was gone.

Talia glowered at him and he knew he was testing her. "Your son is here because I wanted him to know his father and trusted you to keep him safe," she seethed. "Unfortunately, you are too focused on that ingrate-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. Bruce's lips morphed into a vicious sneer, his fists curling at his sides. Later, he would berate himself for broadcasting his weakness. But for now, his dangerous expression was enough to get Talia to shut her mouth.

His jaw clenched. "Leave, Talia," he practically barked. Because no one insulted his kids. Not even if that person was the mother of one of them. Though, that was probably the only thing saving her at this point.

She glared at him with barely restrained rage. "Fine," she bit out. She turned on her heel. "I will go. But I meant what I said. One day, Damian will take your place. It's only a matter of when and if you're still around to hand it to him." She left swiftly, as silently as a trained assassin would.

"Miss al Ghul is certainly something else," remarked Alfred as he strode in. Something dangerous glinted in the British butler's eyes and Bruce couldn't help a twinge of smug satisfaction. Alfred was just as protective of the kids as he was, maybe even more so. Talia was lucky that Alfred had an abundance of self-control and patience.

Bruce nodded. "That's one way to put it..." He leaned against the monitor. "How are the kids?"

The older man smirked. "They've set up something in the living room," he announced. "It was Miss Leta's idea, I believe. They would like you to see it."

His own lips twitched. "Alright," he agreed, wondering what that little girl was up to. She had been restless lately, though he couldn't blame her. It had been a rough couple of nights. He followed Alfred into the living room and couldn't help but grin at what he saw.

Leta and Damian, both clad in their pajamas, were under a homemade pillow fort. They weren't huddled together, but they were close enough. Leta caught sight of him and smiled brilliantly. "Father!" she exclaimed, gesturing him over.

Bruce knelt down to their level. "Hi, baby," he practically cooed, unable to help himself. She didn't like to be treated as a child, but occasionally she would let him get away with it. "What's this?"

"A pillow fort," answered Leta, her sapphire eyes shining with excitement. "Danica had Rex and I help her make one once. And I couldn't sleep, so Damian agreed to make this one with me."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Tt," he scoffed. "Only because I didn't want to listen to her incessant sniveling again." No one else would have picked up on the flash of concern he shot his sister's way. It was gone in half a second, but it was there. Leta was blood and Damian knew that. There was nothing the al Ghuls treasured more than blood. Leta had value in her brother's eyes. She was something to be protected.

That meant the world to Bruce. "Well, any room for me?" he teased.

Immediately, Leta pushed over. "Of course!" she insisted. "Come along, Father!"

And so Bruce wriggled into the tiny space with his children. It was small and cramped, Leta's elbow dug into his stomach and Damian's leg kept hitting his, but that didn't matter to him.

Because this was completely perfect.

OoOoOo

**Yes, I dropped the ball with Bruce at the end. And no, I don't have any regrets. Never will. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"You're going to the Watchtower today."

Leta's eyes lit up as she looked up at her father. "We are?" she gasped with excitement. Originally, she had disliked the fact that Damian had to come along. But now she didn't mind so much. Mostly, Damian kept to himself and Rex hadn't punched him yet, so it all went swimmingly. She would invite her brother to join their activities, but he had made it clear that he couldn't tolerate any of it.

So she didn't ask anymore.

Father nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Kent's bringing Jonathan today, so here's to hoping they get along."

She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "I shall see what I can do," she promised. "Though, Damian doesn't listen to me often." Really, never, but he didn't need to know that. Being an older sister was tough work, but she didn't mind so much. She liked to think that some of her words stuck with him. He hadn't threatened a classmate in _months_.

What was progress if not that?

He kissed her on the head. "Thank you for that," he said softly.

Leta nodded. "Of course." She would do _anything_ for Father. She frowned, however, and looked at him. "Father, Uncle Clark's your best friend. Don't refer to him by his last name. That isn't kind." Uncle Clark was her second favorite of the League. He had been important to Mother and she didn't want Father to push him away.

Everyone needed a friend. She didn't know where she would be without Danica and Rex.

Father chuckled. "Alright, baby," he agreed, blowing a raspberry on her cheek. She giggled despite herself. She didn't let him coddle her when Damian was around because she was afraid he would tease her. "I won't call him Kent too much."

Leta giggled again. "Father!" she complained.

OoOoOo

"Uncle Clark is bringing his son today," announced Leta as she and Damian strolled down the corridors of the Watchtower. "I think you should attempt to befriend him."

Damian glanced at her irritably from the corner of his eye. "I've no need for friends," he snapped. He was tolerant of his older sister for the most part, but he found himself annoyed with her meddling. Just because she deigned to surround herself with those two cretins didn't mean that he had to do the same. "You can cease your attempts."

She shrugged, her face impassive as always. "Rex doesn't like you and Danica is afraid that you'll impale her," she told him plainly. "I would try to have at least one ally."

He grunted. "I've no need of an ally to defend myself against those two," he muttered unhappily. "They are mere children."

Leta cocked an eyebrow. "Who are both older than you," she pointed out. "Besides, Uncle Clark's son is your age."

Damian scowled at her. "Must you refer to him as uncle?" he questioned. He found his patience with the Justice League thin. The only one he really respected was Black Canary and that was only because she had bested him in a fight. "He is not Father's brother." Honestly, the Boy Scout couldn't even come close to their father.

Her eyes hardened slightly. "No, but he may as well be," she responded defensively. She, for some odd reason, loved the band of idiots. "You may not think much of the League, but they are Father's friends. And they were my mother's as well. They have saved this world many times over. They deserve our respect." She looked like she wanted to say more, but she refrained.

He wondered if it had to do with the island. His sister tended to loosen the grip on her emotions when it came to Themyscira. Though, he thought better than to ask.

As soon as they entered the babysitting center- a room he detested- a familiar blur zipped up to them and tackled his sister. He would have reacted if he wasn't used to it by now. "Le-Le!" exclaimed Williams, throwing his arms around Leta. "Oh my god, it's been _forever_!" Williams, apparently, was one for dramatics.

"Danica, stop," ordered Stewart, rolling his green eyes. Damian could hear the underlying protectiveness in his voice. Tt, as if Leta needed it. He had seen her lift literal cars with her bare hands. "You're going to hurt her."

Williams stuck her tongue out. "Jealous much?" she mocked. Her arms seemed to tighten around the girl. Clingy ingrate. "Well, guess what, Rex? She's _my_ best friend. Not yours."

Stewart glared at her. "Try again," he snapped. "Leta likes me more than she likes you."

Leta's cheeks were flushed, though from elation or being suffocated he couldn't tell. "I love you both," she told them honestly. "But Danica? I do require oxygen to live."

Williams obliged, releasing her. "Sorry," she murmured sheepishly. Suddenly, she caught sight of Damian and immediately grew rigid. Speedsters weren't the best at hiding their unease. "Oh, uh, hi Damian."

Damian nodded. "Williams." He may have thought the girl dense and ridiculous, but he could ignore her. She wasn't the problem here. He felt his eyes narrow as they settled on his sister's other friend. "Stewart." It was the half-breed hawk he couldn't stand. He acted as though he was courting Leta or something. As if a half-alien could be worthy of his sister.

Apparently, Stewart felt similarly about him. "_Wayne_," he imitated. Then, in what he was sure was done just to spite him, he leaned forward and kissed Leta on the head. "Hi, Princess."

Somehow, Leta's cheeks grew darker. "H-Hello, Rex," she stuttered, smiling bashfully. Apparently, not even his sister was immune to flattery. Or maybe her bond with Stewart went deeper than he thought. Interesting. He would have to plan Stewart's demise before intimacy came to her mind. "What are we doing?"

Williams shrugged. "Waiting for Uncle Clark and Jonny-boy to get here," she answered. "Le, wait till you see him. He's so cute!" Harpy.

She gave the girl a kind smile. "Danica, I've met Jonathan before," she reminded her. "Granted, he was quite small. How old is the child?"

"Six," responded Stewart indifferently. "He's okay for a kid."

Damian was about to reply with a snide comment, but his sister sent him a glare. He didn't feel like hearing it from her later. She was protective of her friends. "Why are the Boy Scouts tardy?" he settled on instead. "Are they not-?"

"Sorry we're late!" came Clark Kent's boisterous apology. "Had a problem with Jon's teacher. Are we interrupting anything, Dinah?"

Lance smiled warmly. "Of course not, Clark. Come on in, Jon."

Damian's eyes focused on the small child who looked nearly identical to his father. Same dark hair and blue eyes, the boy favored his father more than Damian did his own. That must have been Jonathan Kent. He sent a glare to his sister to let her know that her foolish attempts were in vain. This child was not worth his time.

But of course Leta, the perfect child that she _had_ to be, sauntered over to them. "Hello, Uncle Clark," she greeted cheerfully. She hovered up, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before turning her attention to the child. "Hello, Jonathan." The child gripped his father's cape.

Kent grinned. "Hey, kiddo." His blue eyes focused on Damian and his unease was apparent. Good. "Uh, Damian, right?"

Damian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes," he replied curtly. Leta gave him a small smile which he promptly ignored.

OoOoOo

Once his sister broke off with her friends, Damian occupied himself with looking through the Justice League's files. There was nothing of interest, just the rundown of every member. Interestingly enough, Father was only listed as a part-time member. He had to smirk at that, of course Father was above these amateurs. He was The Batman.

Though, something did stick out to him. There were two different files for Wonder Woman. The current hero, Artemis- the redhead with whom Leta sometimes spent time with- was listed as a common member. But the second file explained that the original Wonder Woman, Diana- whom he presumed to be his sister's mother- was a founding member.

Why would they not just make the redhead a founder? Odd that they would purposely exclude her. The Justice League should watch themselves, cracks in their armor could easily be exposed.

"What are you doing?"

Damian jumped, whirling around to face none other than the child from earlier. He scowled at the fact that he was caught off-guard. "None of your business," he snapped. "What do you want?"

Kent tilted his head. "You're not playing with anyone," he observed. So the child was keenly aware. Interesting. "How come?"

He sneered. "I'm above such childish activities," he commented snidely. Leta may subject herself to such things, but he was not his sister. He would not lower himself for anyone. "Why must you ask?"

Kent shrugged. "I'm bored," he answered. Uninvited, he sat next to Damian. Cretin. He would have pushed him, but he doubted it would do anything. Not unless he got hold of Father's kryptonite. "They're cool, but they're a lot older. I don't want them to feel like they gotta play with me just cause I'm little."

Damian huffed. "Well, I certainly will not entertain you," he insisted. "Go irritate Canary."

Kent pouted pitifully. "Don't you want a friend?" he asked. "Your sister has friends."

He glared at the boy. "My _sister_ is softhearted," he answered curtly. "I am not the same." Honestly, didn't she know that friends were a liability? What if Williams made a mistake in battle? What if Stewart was too focused on protecting her? Allies were fine, but friends were too close. Friends were a weakness.

Friends ended up dying. Did she really want the blood on her hands?

The child tilted his head. "Well, I wanna be your friend," he insisted stubbornly. Stupid child. "Everyone needs a friend. Leta has Dani and Rex and your dad has my dad, so you have me." Judging by the child's expression, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. And Damian lacked the essential green rock to do anything about it.

Lovely.

OoOoOo

Leta wouldn't wipe the idiotic grin off her face as they departed a few hours later.

"Shut up," Damian nearly growled at his sister. He didn't feel like hearing it from her. Kent was unavoidable and if agreeing to be his friend got him to be quiet, he would take it. At least until he got the damn safe open. For now, however, he would have to take the child's pitiful friendship. But he didn't need her to gloat about how right she was.

Her smile grew wider. "I didn't say anything," she replied lightly. She was too damn happy about this. He hoped she knew that the only thing saving her was their shared blood. Their father came into view and she didn't hesitate to skip over to him, the grating fool. "Father, guess what?"

The corners of Father's lips twitched under the cowl. "What?" he responded in a voice too high to belong to The Batman.

Leta hovered upward to sit atop his shoulder. "Damian made friends with Jonathan," she told him.

Father looked down at him. "Really?" he questioned, surprised.

Damian huffed. "Only so he would stop pestering me," he insisted. Honestly, he would give his sister hell later. Her meddling was becoming a nuisance and it was making him look weak in front of their Father. She was a girl, it was alright for her to be weak. But he knew that distractions would be frowned upon, they always were. Friends were nearly unheard of in the League of Assassins.

_You didn't need that girl,' _his mother had hissed as the girl in question laid dead on the floor. _'She was a weakness. You can't afford a single weakness.'_

But, to his shock, Father gave him a small smile. "Good," he said. "That's good."

No more was said as they returned home.

OoOoOo

**Super short chapter, I know. But I thought I'd give y'all a bit of childish fluff before the shitstorm. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Please enjoy!**

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'_Fury to Redbird_.'

Redbird rolled his eyes under his mask. "What do you want, Fury?" he bit out. He had only _just_ managed to convince his father that he didn't need to be accompanied. Why did his sister insist on checking up on him? He was just as good as her, if not better! He didn't need her to coddle or watch out for him. Besides, nothing was happening at the moment.

_'Father has gathered the evidence on Cluemaster,' _Fury informed him, her voice as commanding as it always was on patrol. At times, it was hard to believe that Fury and Leta Wayne were the same person. Father- the Bruce Wayne that they knew, not the buffoon that he portrayed- acted similarly at the manor. But not Leta.

Strange child.

Redbird raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "And?" he questioned. Cluemaster, while utterly irritating and deceitful, was hardly any cause for alarm. He had seen things that would probably make the man wet his pants.

He almost heard her glaring at him. _'We must take him into custody,' _she ordered curtly. She seemed to be in a foul mood. _'I am sending you the address now. I will meet you there.'_

He scowled. "Why must we do this?" he complained. Really, the two of them were above such things. They were warriors, they should be fighting. "Are the Gotham City Police so inept that they fail to make a simple arrest?"

Fury gave a noncommittal hum. _'Batman was insistent,' _she answered quietly. Ah, so that was it. She and Father must have had an argument. Of course, the Golden Girl wasn't used to it. _'I will be there in ten minutes.'_

Redbird grunted. "Fine," he agreed begrudgingly. He was careful not to be too difficult on patrol. He was, much to his annoyance, still new at this. He knew Father wouldn't hesitate to bench him if he caused trouble. He couldn't do that, he knew. Not in Gotham.

Not when there were _lives_ at stake.

OoOoOo

When Redbird touched down onto the rooftop, Fury was already there waiting for him. The light of the moon reflected off her silver, indestructible bracers. "You're late," she stated plainly. Her blue eyes narrowed below her headpiece, but she diverted her attention to the apartment across the street. "He lives there, on the third floor."

Redbird's mouth formed a thin line. "Any family?" he questioned. Because, for some reason, the scum of Gotham saw fit to drag other people down with them. It was disgusting, really, and something that infuriated him to no end.

She glanced at him. "A wife and daughter," she answered quietly. "In fact, Mrs. Crystal Brown is the only way we found him. She works at a nearby gas station. Fairly difficult to track down. We suspect that she is knowledgeable about her husband's activities and that she was lying under the radar purposely."

He resisted the urge to turn up his nose. Though, he couldn't help but feel a bit of aversion at a woman openly putting her child at risk to hide the criminal's wrongdoings. Though, he couldn't help but think it was similar to the actions of his own mother. "How do you propose we apprehend him?" he asked. "Won't we risk harming the woman and child?"

Fury hummed in thought. "We will have to tread carefully," she warned. "Cluemaster is conniving, I would not put it past him to use his wife and daughter as leverage. Protecting them will have to be our first priority. Though, if all goes well, this will be a clean arrest."

Redbird nodded, but couldn't help but think that this could go very wrong. He would have to make sure that the woman and child would be out of harm's way. Hopefully, they would be able to apprehend Arthur Brown without any hitches. "Let us go, then," he decided. His sister nodded in agreement and off they went.

OoOoOo

Four-year-old Stephanie Brown covered her ears as the shouting broke through her bedroom door. She cowered under the bed, shaking atop the worn-down wood as the shouts grew louder and louder. She sniffed miserably; it was the same every time Daddy came home (which actually hadn't been often recently). Late when Mommy thought she was asleep, the yelling would begin.

Tears welled in her pale blue eyes. Why couldn't they be like other mommies and daddies? Why couldn't they kiss and hug and hold her? Why was it so hard for them to get along? "Please s-stop," she whimpered, her bottom lip trembling.

And then, it did.

Stephanie blinked, straining her ears for any sign of an argument. But she was met with only hushed whispers. Then, the shouting began again only this time there were different voices. Young voices. Older than her, but not enough to be adults'.

Kids? Why would there be other kids here?

Mommy yanked open the door, her hair messy and her eyes wide and scared. An ugly shade of blue was forming on her cheek. Without a word, she dropped down next to Stephanie and took her into her arms. And together, they huddled close as whatever was happening outside went down.

Stephanie couldn't ignore the odd pang in her chest.

OoOoOo

Rarely did Redbird ever see his sister so angry.

But, he supposed he wasn't much better as they both glared the bastard down. Domestic violence was just another thing to add to the long list of crimes. Fury scowled, personifying her name as she stalked forward. "Arthur Brown, you're coming with us," she barked. "There is a warrant for your arrest. Gotham City Police are waiting outside."

Brown studied them both, a despicable smirk crawling onto his face. "The Bat's sent children to apprehend me," he observed. "How terribly wicked of him."

Redbird bared his teeth in aggravation. He had no time for these games. "Come with us now, Brown," he snapped. He tightened his hold on the hilt of his sword. "Do not make us force you."

The man laughed. "By all means, kids," he tempted, gesturing for them to come forward. "See if you can." The idiot had no idea who he was dealing with.

With barely a glance at one another, Fury and Redbird lunged.

OoOoOo

Batman cursed under his breath as he arrived at the scene. The apartment had a broken window and most of the furniture was destroyed, but Cluemaster laid unconscious on the floor. Beside him stood Fury and Redbird, the former scowling. He couldn't help but think she took her moniker a bit too literally at times. She was never this angry at home.

He regarded his children coolly. "I take it everything went well?" he drawled sarcastically. Really, there was no reason to doubt them. He'd sent them here at this time specifically; he had been shutting down Brown's operations and apprehending his men. The man was alone with no back-up.

He hadn't like that his wife and daughter had been there, but there had been no way around it. This was the only place he couldn't slip away.

Fury nodded shortly. "The police are on their way," she informed him. She stalked past him and he looked to his son questioningly.

Redbird sneered. "I've no interest is deducing what's pissed her off," he said. It was often hard to tell how much Damian valued Leta outside of their shared blood. On one hand, he acted indifferently and with annoyance. On the other, he was fairly sure he'd caught him planning Rex Stewart's death after their last visit to the Watchtower.

He sighed. "Come," he ordered. Redbird followed him with no hesitation.

OoOoOo

"Alfred?" called Leta softly once they returned and the top was open. She had been quiet the whole ride home, but he hadn't paid much attention to it. She usually was a quiet child. "I've need of your assistance, if you wouldn't mind." Her tone was somewhat odd, though he couldn't quite place why. He couldn't figure out what she needed Alfred's help with either.

Alfred strolled in gracefully. "Whatever for, Miss Leta?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She inhaled a little too sharply. "Well, I think I may require stitches."

Bruce's head snapped to her in the backseat. She was pale, blood oozing from her shoulder as she seemed to struggle to stay conscious. Her eyes fluttered slightly as she gripped at the leather of the seats.

Panic lurched in his heart and for a rare moment, he was at a loss. "Alfred!" he shouted. A thousand horrible scenarios rushed through his head about what had happened and he berated himself for missing it. How could he have missed it?

Alfred was by Leta's side in an instant. "Come along, young Miss," he urged, easily lifting her out of the car. Her head lolled onto his shoulder as he carried her over to the medical table. "Do try to stay awake, Miss Leta."

Leta nodded lazily. "Yes, Alfred," she replied obediently, yet yawned loudly.

Bruce watched a bit helplessly as Alfred removed the top of her suit. "Bullet wound?" he inquired, examining her injured shoulder.

She yawned again. "Yes," she answered. "I removed the bullet myself, but I failed to stop the bleeding. And then Father called and..." It hit Bruce all at once that she must have been shot just before he called her to apprehend Cluemaster. He cursed himself for not being more observant and her for not telling him. Thickheaded child.

She was going to be in so much damn trouble.

Alfred raised a stern eyebrow at her. "Removed it yourself?" he questioned sharply. "Why, Miss Leta, I'd no idea you were an expert medic. You must pardon me."

Leta had the good grace to flush. "Forgive me, _Pappoús_," she responded quietly and Alfred instantly softened. She didn't call him that often, but Bruce knew it meant a lot to his surrogate father. "I did not intend to cause trouble."

The British butler sighed as he worked. "You are fortunate for your thick skin, my dear," he told her, bandaging her shoulder. "This could have been much worse."

She nodded, lowering her head. "I know."

Bruce figured that now was as good a time as any to cut in. "I hope you also know that you're benched for a week," he bit out. He didn't care how fast she healed, she should have told him. He would have immediately sent her home.

Though, that was probably why she hadn't.

Leta looked like she wanted to argue, but closed her mouth. "Of course, Father," she replied icily.

And, well, if he felt a stab of vindication at her internal suffering, he would never say.

OoOoOo

Leta crossed her arms as she laid in her bed, her mood particularly stormy. Hera, she had just been doing her job! The wound was practically healed by now anyway! But did Father care? No, he only focused on the fact that she had neglected to tell him. How could she? It had been their only chance to apprehend Brown and Damian couldn't have done it on his own.

Damian was constantly nearby, though he denied this at every turn. It was sweet of him to worry about her. She meant something to him and in moments like these it was a given. She cherished the seldom times he would accidentally reveal his affection.

He door suddenly swung open and she jumped. "Leta Wayne!" scolded Danica, zipping over to her. She put her hands on her hips as her dark eyes narrowed. "Just what the hell do you think you were doing?"

Leta tilted her head. "I wonder if Aunt Iris knows you swear," she mused. Though, she couldn't really talk. She often cursed under her breath, though it was mostly in Themysciran.

Danica glared harder. "How did you let yourself get shot?" she demanded. "Do you know how worried I was? And then Uncle Bruce wants to be a jerk and stop us from visiting you! How unfair is that?"

She felt a bit insulted at her father being called a jerk, but let it go. "I didn't let it happen," she replied. "It just... did."

"That's not like you," remarked Rex from the threshold. To anyone else, he may have seemed unfazed. But Leta knew Rex, better than she knew herself. The concern is his gaze was not to be taken lightly. "What happened?"

Leta sighed. "Distracted," she muttered with disdain. Artemis would be disappointed. "Won't happen again. Although..." Her lips curled into a grin. "I suppose I could use a hug or two to get better." The fact that her shoulder was hardly injured anymore was ignored.

The irritation on Danica's face melted away and she didn't hesitate to climb into the bed with her. Leta beamed despite herself, snuggling into the girl's warmth. Rex sat on her other side, fingers threading through her hair. She loved it when he did that. Being close to her friends always made her feel better. She was grateful for their presence.

And, well, if Father had a problem with their proximity, she wouldn't find it within herself to care.

OoOoOo

**Well, this chapter came from the darkest recesses of my mind. I hope you liked it and please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I know it's been forever and I'm sorry! Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

"Father?"

Bruce looked away from the computer to face his youngest child, who seemed so small in the dark cave. "Yes, Damian?" he responded. He had to admit that Leta had been right. Since allowing Damian to join them on patrol, the boy had become much tamer. It was almost as though he didn't have anything to prove anymore. Like he knew that he had a place in this family.

That made Bruce happy. Happier than words could ever explain.

Damian glanced around- probably to make sure his sister wasn't near- before peering up at him. "Why do you indulge Kent?" he asked finally.

He was almost taken back by the question, but it wasn't an off question. Most people couldn't see why the Dark Knight and Man of Steel were friends. Don't get him wrong, the Boy Scout was irritatingly optimistic and his lack of planning was grating, but he respected Clark. It had taken a long time for them to get there, but he almost saw Clark as, well, his brother.

Though, nowadays, it was almost painful to be around Kent too long. It reminded him too much of the time they had spent with Diana. The three of them, the Trinity. One had rarely been without the other two. Clark's presence made him miss Diana all the more.

Bruce, noticing his son's expectant look, sobered himself. "Is this about Jonathan?" he asked, hiding the quirks of his lips. He was almost glad that little Jonathan had the Kent habit of pulling surly bats away from themselves. He may not have appreciated it himself, but Damian needed someone like that.

Though, Diana would have argued that he did too.

Damian scowled, a near mirror image of himself. "Kent is a nuisance," he insisted. "He insists on being around me, Father. He will not leave me alone. He has even called the manor, according to Pennyworth! This has nothing to do with the ingrate."

Bruce nearly snickered, but thought better of it. "To answer your question, Damian, Clark is my friend," he admitted carefully. "I can depend on him when I need to and he knows he can depend on me." Usually, he would never say such a thing aloud. And with Leta, he wouldn't have needed to. But Damian was different than Leta. He didn't understand bonds outside of soldier and commander, not even familial ones.

The boy nodded his head, but still seemed a bit lost. "Leta has informed me that Kent meant a great deal to her mother," he stated. His voice was different, softer than what he was used to hearing from Damian.

Bruce was nearly surprised; Leta almost never talked about Diana. At least, not with him. Though, she may have around Artemis or her friends. But he nodded anyway. "He did. Clark and Diana were practically joined at the hip when she first came to our world."

Damian was lost in silent contemplation. "What was she like?" he questioned finally. "This Amazon Princess?"

A solemn smile forced its way onto his face. "Diana was the bravest woman I ever knew," he answered honestly. "And the strongest." And the most truthful, though he didn't want it to seem like he was comparing her to Talia. "She had the biggest heart and the greatest compassion." He chuckled wryly. "She was also very stubborn."

His son raised an eyebrow. "Like Leta?"

Bruce barked out a laugh. "Yes," he replied. "Like Leta." Though Leta was more quietly defiant, she was just as persistent. If she wanted something, she would try her hardest to get it. "Diana was the only woman who loved every part of me." The man, the bat, and whatever was in between. Diana hadn't been chased away, she had touched his heart in a way no other had.

God, he missed her.

Damian hummed in thought. "Why did you choose her over Mother?"

Well, if there was ever a question to throw him off.

But studying his son's face, Bruce knew what he was really asking. He was asking him for a true definition of his mother as compared to Diana. If it had been any other child, he wouldn't have answered.

But Damian wasn't any other child. He had been raised as a weapon, a means to an end. He had been manipulated and lied to his entire life. Bruce knew he couldn't contribute to that, not even in this situation.

Damian deserved the truth.

So Bruce sighed. "Talia has changed since we first met," he began slowly. "I'm not sure if it's due to the Lazarus Pit or your grandfather, but the woman I fell in love with wouldn't have done the things that she has." How Damian was conceived came strongly to mind. Not to mention how she allowed Damian to grow up. He would have never wanted his son raised by the League. "When Diana and I had your sister, we agreed that while we would teach Leta how to defend herself, we would not force our identities upon her. Taking up the mask would be entirely up to her."

His jaw clenched. "Talia never gave you a choice," he continued. "She raised you as an assassin, not a child."

Damian stared at him for a moment. It almost looked like he wanted to argue with him, but he seemed to decide against it. "And the Princess wouldn't have raised Leta as an Amazon?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking." Diana may have raised Leta with Amazon teachings, but she wouldn't have taught her to be a soldier. Not in the way Talia did Damian.

Before Damian could respond, a different voice cut in. "Mother wouldn't have taught me that men are evil, vile creatures that need to be contained and controlled," Leta supplied sleepily as she hovered down the stairs. She wiped the weariness from her right eye, touching down next to her brother.

Warning bells went off in Bruce's head. "Did Hippolyta teach you that?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Philippus," she answered with a small, tired grin.

He smiled at her. "Rough night, honey?" he observed, noting the bags under her eyes. His daughter didn't sleep very well most nights, most likely plagued by nightmares. Often, he would find her and Alfred in the kitchen at ungodly hours, a glass of warm milk in her hand.

Leta nodded with a hum, leaning against his shoulder. "It seems as though Morpheus will not leave me be tonight," she admitted, a small note of loathing in her voice. "Unfortunate."

Bruce chuckled. "Well, since it isn't a school night, you can both stay up with me," he allowed. "I just have a few things to finish up."

They both obliged, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Though, Leta must have been tired because she soon fell asleep on her brother's shoulder. Damian looked highly uncomfortable. "Father," he implored. "How do I remove her?"

Bruce bit down his smirk. "Remember what I said about your sister being stubborn?"

OoOoOo

Damian loved his mother.

Of course he did. How couldn't he? She had given him life, had nurtured him from infancy. She had taught him, trained him. She had prepared him for his rightful place; both as Batman and the future leader of the League of Assassins. So what if she had pushed him to his limit every day? So what if she had disregarded his injuries, no matter how severe? Everything she did, she had assured him once, was for his benefit.

But was it really?

Damian wasn't oblivious; he'd always known what Leta thought of his mother. She was too spineless to say it, but he saw how her nose wrinkled every time Mother came up. He saw her bite her lip, no doubt to hold back an insult. The distaste was obvious.

At the time, he had simply thought her envious. Her own mother was gone, after all, why wouldn't she be? But from Father's insight, he supposed that wasn't it at all.

His sister might not have liked his mother, but she wasn't jealous. No, she didn't like Talia on behalf of him. Because, in her eyes, Talia had mistreated him. Had done wrong by him. He finally understood that.

What concerned him was the fact that she may have been right. He knew Mother wasn't like those drunken parents they stopped every night. The ones who took their aggression out on helpless, defenseless children. He had never seen her like that, as abusive.

But was she?

Damian didn't want to believe it. His mother was intelligent and clever and loyal. She loved him, she wanted him to be the best. She was his mother. She had done right by him.

_'Talia never gave you a choice.'_

His father's words echoed in his head. How different would he be had Father been in his life from the beginning? How different would both he and his sister be if Diana Prince had never died? It was difficult to comprehend, the thought of being raised by another woman. Talia al Ghul was his mother, the only feminine influence in his life.

But what if she hadn't been?

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "Brother?" called Leta's soft voice. "Alfred has sent me to inform you that dinner is ready."

Damian didn't answer for a while. How would his sister sound with a full American accent, he wondered? Would she still address him as 'brother' or simply by his name? Would she use a nickname like the dreaded 'Ian' Kent was trying to force upon him? "I'm coming," he finally replied, going to meet her in the hallway.

Leta, dressed simply in a T-shirt and jeans, offered him a smile. "Alfred made spring minestrone," she told him.

He nodded, fighting the urge to smile back. "Pennyworth does his job well," he replied. He had quickly learned that while Father may have owned the Manor and may have been Batman, Pennyworth was the one who was really in charge. All it took was a stern glare from the man and he and Leta would immediately settle.

She beckoned him with her hand. "Let us go then," she suggested, walking along the hallway.

Damian followed her, questions resting on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but she didn't want to sound like he cared that much. Finally, he settled on, "Why do you dislike my mother?"

Leta stopped and he nearly collided with her. She turned around, her usually blue eyes a steely gray and her lips pressed together firmly. "She hurt you," she answered after a moment of silence. Cold rage danced across her irises.

Usually, he would jump to his mother's defense and snap back at her. Today, he kept her gaze. "She was preparing me," he told her.

Her lip curled. "She was using you," she corrected. Her tone, however, didn't hold anger toward him. Toward his mother, maybe, but not toward him. "She had you for her father and only for her father."

Damian wanted to argue with her, but she was right. Mother only ever did what Grandfather asked of her. He was Grandfather's heir, his legacy. He secured the al Ghuls as the head of the League of Assassins. "She loved me," he retorted, carefully gauging her reaction.

Leta stared at him, a myriad of emotions passing through her face. "You favor your left wrist," she finally spoke. There was something ominous about her tone. "If I were to guess, I would say that you broke it. How, exactly, did that happen, Brother?"

He blinked. "Climbing the mountains of Interlaken," he answered automatically. "It was a test."

She nodded. "When I was four, Grandmother pit me against a harpy," she told him. "It marks the worthiness of an Amazon, you see. Mother had defeated the beast at that age as well. I dislocated my shoulder." She took a deep breath, pain flashing through her face. "When I see Talia, I see my grandmother."

With that, she waltzed away from him and into the kitchen.

OoOoOo

**I really like how this chapter turned out. Anyway, I hope you like it and please review!**


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